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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842834">Tangled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzlemewithdiamonds/pseuds/dazzlemewithdiamonds'>dazzlemewithdiamonds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Divination, Dumbledore's Army, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gryffindor/Ravenclaw Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Hogwarts Prefects, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Major Original Character(s), Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Original Character(s), Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Quidditch, Quidditch Captains, Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Second War with Voldemort, Slytherin, The Deathly Hallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:27:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazzlemewithdiamonds/pseuds/dazzlemewithdiamonds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"why won't you stay away from me" </p><p>"don't you see, love. we're tangled." </p><p>Andrea Selwyn is focused, driven and unwilling to let anyone or anything stand in her way. Her plan for fifth year was to study for her OWLs, win the Quidditch House Cup and land a competitive summer internship for prospective aurors. Leading an underground defense class with the Boy Who Lived definitely wasn't part of the plan. Neither was falling for the frustrating blonde boy she's known forever. </p><p>draco malfoy x oc<br/>based on the books: ootp-tdh<br/>SLOW updates (but hi yes i am still here as of march 1, 2020)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a clock's insight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all! It's Dahlia, your author here!</p><p>As always, I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter books. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling (although we do not support or claim that transphobic woman). Only my OCs belong to me. </p><p>I do not give anyone permission to repost my work on other platforms. If you're interested in translating my work into another language, please message me first. </p><p>That's all for now. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>THE</b> appearance of a clock tells you a great deal about its owner. </p><p>Some clocks are practical, characterized only by twelve numbers and an unassuming set of hands. A clock of this sort ticks quietly, unobtrusively—a tool quickly used and quickly forgotten. The owners of these clocks are pragmatic, unconcerned with the philosophies of time: straightforward people with straightforward goals. </p><p> Other clocks are ostentatious, their numbers curled into illegible script, their hands intricately cut into shapes, too pretty designs etched into their backing. These clocks are meant to be seen; to command respect and admiration. Look at how I've harnessed time, they seem to boast, Look at how I've dressed her up.</p><p>Grandfather clocks are the largest offenders of this arrogance, with their polished cages of wood and glass. They chime insistently at regular intervals, flaunting their elaborate melodies to remind anyone and everyone of their grandeur. </p><p>Andrea supposed that was why grandfather clocks were such a popular pureblood furnishing. They were kindred spirits, purebloods and grandfather clocks, with their misplaced sense of self-entitlement and egotism. </p><p>The grandfather clock at Avery Manor was tall, taller than Andrea, and she had to look up to see the clock hands. Elegant patterns stretched across its dark walnut encasing, leaving no surface unscathed. The silver plate of the clock winked haughtily beneath the light of the hallway's chandelier, as if it could feel the weight of Andrea's attention. </p><p>Andrea tore her eyes from the antique. It wouldn't do her any favors to stare at the clock all night. Someone might notice how well and truly bored she was. </p><p>Pureblood parties were tedious. Every interaction the same. Force a smile. Regurgitate the same polite phrases with the same rehearsed mannerisms. Each moment mechanical and predicted, as if Andrea was reciting lines from a story already written. </p><p>If Andrea was a different person, she may have let the repetition lull her into a sense of security. It would be easy enough, Andrea thought, to lose yourself to the routine. To let your mouth move and your mind wander. To wrap the monotony around your eyes like a blindfold. To indulge in willful ignorance. And yet Andrea couldn't. </p><p>People whispered about her when they thought she couldn't hear. <i>Rebellious</i>, they'd say. <i>Always challenging her father. </i>The gossip used to embarrass her, turning her cheeks raspberry-red as if their whispered words had reached out and pinched her face. It didn't rattle her anymore. At some point, it had crossed the threshold from embarrassing to funny, in the way that unfunny things can become funny if you think about them for long enough. </p><p>To be fair, her designation as a rebel really was laughable. As far as Andrea could see, there were only two things she had ever done that could be classified as rebellious, in the loosest sense of the word: her sorting and Quidditch. Neither of which were all that revolutionary. </p><p>It wasn't like she was sorted into Hufflepuff or, Merlin forbid, Gryffindor. It was just Ravenclaw, which if you squinted hard enough, was basically Slytherin rebranded. As for playing quidditch, it was 1995. Women had been integrated into practically every professional team for years now. It really shouldn't be all that preposterous for Andrea to play. </p><p>Old habits die hard, Andrea supposed bitterly. Especially when they're outdated and sexist. </p><p>Andrea glanced back at the grandfather clock and sighed. She had been gone from the ballroom for too long. </p><p>She took a long drink from the water glass in her hand before straightening her shoulders and smoothing her face into an expression of cool indifference. </p><p>Reentering the ballroom, Andrea took a cursory scan of the room. The party was extravagant, though not to the point where it would be considered gaudy. The ballroom decorations were lined with silver and studded with enormous and brilliantly sparkling diamonds. It was a power play to use real diamonds in such a cavalier way, and undoubtedly a calculated move by the Averys to flaunt their wealth. A magically charmed set of stringed instruments in the corner played a waltz she vaguely recognized as Strauss. Several sets of couples danced together on the dance floor, including Theodore Nott and Daphne Greengrass, who were rumored to have an understanding that they would marry after graduation. Andrea eyed them with something that felt a lot like pity. It was almost certainly not their own choice. Pureblood betrothals rarely were. The remainder of the party's guests stood on the fringes of the dance floor, conversing in careful, refined tones. She spied her father, Aster Selwyn, talking with Thorfinn Rowle and tried not to wince at the Dark Mark peaking out beneath Rowle's sleeve. </p><p>The marked Death Eaters had gotten braver after the events at the Triwizard Tournament, not being quite as careful to cover the mark tarnishing their left forearm. They'd also been concealing their dark magic less and less, forgoing charms and glamours in favor of allowing the residual trace of dark magic to trail behind them like blackened exhaust. Andrea supposed that was also meant to be a power play. </p><p>It was a hard feeling to describe, being around dark magic. It wasn't a physical feeling, like a headache or upset stomach. It was a profound feeling of <i>off-ness</i>, like someone was screaming without ever opening their mouth. It set Andrea's teeth on edge. </p><p>Not for the first time, Andrea cursed the Ministry. Here was a ballroom full of Dark witches and wizards, who were being more blasé about their allegiances than ever, and all the Ministry was doing was churning out disparaging stories about Harry Potter and Dumbledore. What complete and utter idiots. </p><p>She shouldn't really be surprised. The Ministry didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to making the right decisions. </p><p>Andrea's father had served as a Death Eater during the Wizarding War, sworn to carry out You-Know-Who's bidding. When You-Know-Who vanished and the Death Eaters fell, he, along with many other Death Eaters, swore to the Wizengamot that he had been under the influence of the  Imperius curse. It was a flimsy defense, but the Ministry cared more about restoring order than enforcing justice, and the Imperius defense conveniently expedited the trials.</p><p>As Andrea's eyes flitted across the ballroom, it was obvious just how bad of a decision that had been. There were at least a dozen people in the room who had plead innocent with that excuse, and Andrea suspected more than half of them were active again. She prayed to Merlin that her father wasn't considering rejoining the effort. </p><p>Andrea wasn't close with her father. She didn't even like him most of the time, but she didn't want him to die, and being a Death Eater had an awfully high death rate. </p><p>Andrea brought her water glass to her lips, frowning when she realized it had run dry. Normally, the glasses would refill on their own, but the host's kitchen staff must have forgotten to charm the glasses. They would probably all be fired by the morning. She doubted the Averys tolerated mistakes.</p><p>She made her way to the bar to request another glass of water, leaning against the cool granite of the counter as the bartender hurried to fetch her drink. </p><p>"If you keep drinking all that water, you're going to have to pee really bad," a voice said behind her, laced with humor. </p><p>Andrea turned to face the voice, recognizing the silky tenor.  </p><p>"Perfect," she responded coolly. "All the better excuse for when Josephina Fawley decides to waylay me with her terribly dry small talk." </p><p>"Not a bad strategy," replied Draco Malfoy, leisurely taking a seat at the bar. "Last month, she cornered me and spent thirty minutes discussing the merits of gold versus bronze fastenings on cloaks." </p><p>Draco wore an impeccably tailored black suit, a silver serpent pinned to his breast pocket. His platinum blonde hair had been side-swept, stray hairs smoothed into submission. His appearance was perfectly refined, and yet Andrea couldn't shake the feeling of looking at a kid in dress-up, pretending. </p><p>She supposed they all were. Pretending, that is. </p><p>Andrea accepted her newly refilled water glass from the bartender and said, "Someone should really stop inviting her to these events." </p><p>"Oh, that's where I disagree," Draco drawled. "These parties just wouldn't be the same without her." </p><p>Andrea sent him an amused glance. The Selwyns and Malfoys had long been family friends, and Andrea and Draco had known each other since birth. They had never been close, exactly, especially after she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, but he was familiar; predictable in his pride and harmless in his arrogance. </p><p>"Have you heard who the new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor is?" Andrea asked carefully, sipping her water. She had her eyes set on a competitive summer apprenticeship at the Department for Magical Law Enforcement and hoped the new DADA professor was competent enough to prepare her for OWLs at the end of the year. </p><p>Draco gave Andrea a sidelong glance. "Still thinking about being an auror?" </p><p>"Of course," Andrea replied, lifting an eyebrow. She wasn't exactly subtle about her interests. To be truthful, you couldn't really be subtle if you wanted to be auror. The application process was incredibly competitive and you needed to stand out to make it through. </p><p>"It doesn't really make sense for someone like us to be in magical law enforcement. You must realize you'd probably end up arresting everyone in this room," Draco remarked off-handedly, gesturing lazily at the room of pureblood socialites. </p><p>Andrea tried not to tense at his reference to the dark magic floating like an airborne disease. Like she needed a reminder. </p><p>Irritated, she repeated her question. "Do you know who the Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher is this year? Or should I find someone more useful to talk to?"</p><p>Draco smirked at Andrea. "You know, I really don't know why the Sorting Hat put you in Ravenclaw. You're clearly a Slytherin." </p><p>Andrea sighed and pushed her body off the spot at the bar where she had been leaning. Predictable and harmless as he may be, Draco was still an ass. The novelty of his familiarity wasn't enough to keep her interested in his company. </p><p>"Dolores Umbridge," he called, halting her exit. "She's the new teacher for Defense Against The Dark Arts." </p><p>Andrea looked over her shoulder, eyes glinting with recognition. "The woman at the Ministry who always wears pink?" </p><p>Draco's trademark smirk slipped back on his face. "The one and only." </p><p>Interest piqued, Andrea slid back to her spot at the bar. "Has she ever even studied Defense Against The Dark Arts? I would have thought all of her time was spent color coordinating her wardrobe." </p><p>"Apparently, she's planning on teaching the entire curriculum through bookwork," Draco said dryly.</p><p>Andrea pursed her lips. "That won't bode well for the practical section of our Defense Against The Dark Arts OWLs." </p><p>"It seems she's decided to ignore that," Draco replied, tapping his glass to signal a refill to the bartender.  "It's a done deal. The Ministry wants a liaison in Hogwarts to keep an eye on our buffoon of a headmaster." </p><p>"Don't call him that," Andrea reprimanded sharply. "His name is Dumbledore." </p><p>Draco waved her off. "He's a bumbling idiot with a hard-on for Gryffindors and little boys with lightning scars on their forehead." </p><p>Andrea shot him an incredulous look. </p><p>"What? I'm not wrong, am I? He definitely picks favorites. And his whole thing with Potter is weird," Draco defended. </p><p>Andrea shook her head. "You may have a point about favoritism, but that doesn't mean you have the right to call him anything but his name." </p><p>Draco rolled his eyes again. "You've fallen under his spell just like the rest of Hogwarts. What's that Muggle saying? You've drank the Kool-Aid?" </p><p>Andrea glanced around the ballroom.  "I don't think we really have the agency to call anything a cult when we're right in the middle of one," she said firmly.</p><p>Draco's expression sobered, humor fading from his eyes. "Yeah. I guess you're right." </p><p>An awkward silence fell over the two, the burden of their families' secrets weighing heavily between them. Luckily for them, their uncomfortable moment was cut short by Draco's mother.</p><p>"There's my boy," the blonde woman said, approaching the two teenagers. </p><p>As always, Narcissa Malfoy was the picture of elegance and grace. Her emerald green dress robes were embroidered with patterns of silver thread that seemed to shift and swirl as she moved. Onyx gemstones set in sterling silver adorned her ears, a matching pendant situated on her neck. </p><p>Growing up, Andrea used to want to be Narcissa Malfoy. She had a quality to her that drew your attention, something that made you eager for her approval. Andrea used to want to wield that same power: to be the center of gravity in a room without even trying. She still did, if she was being honest, though she no longer wanted to be Narcissa Malfoy. She had long ago decided she would never be a pureblood socialite. She couldn't reconcile the darkness of pureblood society with her own sense of morality. Pureblood society was cruel, and the diamonds used to decorate their parties would just as soon stab you in the back. </p><p>Narcissa arrived at the bar, nodding at Andrea. </p><p>"Always a pleasure to see you are doing well, Andrea," she said politely. </p><p>"You as well, Mrs. Malfoy," Andrea said, returning her nod. </p><p>Narcissa Malfoy then turned to Draco, mentioning a new guest he should meet. She led him away, leaving Andrea alone at the bar. </p><p>Andrea looked down at her water glass and sighed. Empty again. </p><p>"Enjoying yourself?" </p><p>The deep voice sent a jolt down Andrea's spine. </p><p>"Of course. The Averys put on a lovely event," she said carefully, unsure of his mood. </p><p>He hummed his agreement. "You were gone for quite some time," he said. The words were innocuous, but Andrea recognized his tone. Her chest tightened.</p><p>"I needed some air, so I went out in the hallway for a moment," she managed to say, meeting her father's piercing gaze. His eyes were guarded, cold. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen them any other way. </p><p>"Don't do that again," he finally said, maintaining eye contact. </p><p>Andrea nodded, resisting the urge to crumple under his gaze. He would only see that as weakness and if there was one thing Aster Selwyn hated more than anything else, it was weakness. </p><p>"Yes, Father." </p><p>He broke eye contact then, turning to the bartender to order a scotch. </p><p>"I have some business to attend to with Rowle tonight. Tinky will come to Apparate you back to the manor. You are to go directly to the manor. Do not try to convince Tinky to take you anywhere else. Do I make myself clear?"</p><p>Andrea swallowed. "Yes, Father." </p><p>Her father's cold eyes found hers again, and she knew that look. The look that demanded compliance. His eyes searched hers for a moment before he nodded to himself, seeming to find what he was looking for. He turned away without another word. </p><p>Andrea let out a deep breath, trying to calm her heart rate. </p><p>Only a few more weeks, Andrea reminded herself. Just a few more weeks and you'll be back at Hogwarts. He'll be here and you'll be there. She wished time would move faster. </p><p>That was the thing about time, though. It didn't care if it was told by a simple clock or a grandfather clock. It ticked by all the same, stubbornly refusing to speed up or slow down no matter how much you beg.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. fifth year begins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>CALLING</b> Hogwarts home might be a terrible cliche, but Andrea couldn't help the tingling sensation of comfort she felt walking through the wrought iron gates. Life in the House of Selwyn wasn't exactly pleasant. Hogwarts was a welcome change of pace. </p><p>She had spent the remaining weeks of summer after the Avery party tucked away in the library of Selwyn Manor. At first, Andrea had been using the library as a convenient space to avoid her father, whose moods had become more unpredictable by the day, but then she stumbled upon something intriguing in the first volume of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration. Someone had heavily annotated the pages, underlining words and sentences, filling the margins with their own notes—<i>cross reference with Waitt's Practical Applications of Diatransfiguration</i>—and quips—<i>this analysis is thoroughly illogical, have the authors of this book even heard of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?</i> Fascinated, Andrea had pulled the rest of the volumes of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration to find the same handwriting splashed across the pages. She had only been mildly interested in transubstantial transfiguration when she picked up the first book, but whoever had previously owned the volumes must have been dedicated to the subject. The comments written into the margins left crumbs of a vibrant personality—a scholar, most definitely, with looped cursive that implied a pureblood upbringing. It was wholly improper to write directly into a book the way they had, and yet Andrea found herself liking them more for it. She found herself absorbed in reading the notes they had left, trying to decipher who possibly could have written them. </p><p>It certainly wasn't her father. He cared far too much about order to defile a book like that. Besides, the person who wrote the notes was clearly far more personable than Aster Selwyn. Part of her hoped it had been her mother, though there was no evidence to support that theory. She really didn't know anything about Radhika Selwyn, other than that she had died a few months after Andrea had been born. Still, she liked the idea of her mother being a sassy transfiguration buff. She imagined her mother sitting in one of the library's  leather armchairs, etching her comments into the books until the early hours of the morning. Maybe if her mother had been a scholar, she'd have been proud to see Andrea sorted into Ravenclaw. </p><p>Andrea knew it was a far-fetched idea, sprouted completely from her imagination. It probably had more to do with her own unresolved feelings about navigating the world without a mother than anything. Even so, she held onto the idea. She'd even packed several of the volumes into her trunk to re-read at Hogwarts. </p><p>The wind picked up, biting at Andrea's cheeks as she approached the last carriage to the castle. She had gotten stuck behind a flock of second-years on the platform who, to Andrea's frustration, had decided to move at a snail's pace. </p><p>Andrea climbed into the carriage, noting the blonde haired girl seated in the corner. Her nose was buried in a magazine, which Andrea realized was an upside-down copy of The Quibbler.  It must be Luna Lovegood, she reasoned. </p><p>"Hi, Luna. How are you?" Andrea greeted, slipping into the bench across from her fellow Ravenclaw. </p><p>Luna looked up from her Quibbler, radish earrings dangling. "Oh, hello, Andrea. You look well." </p><p>Andrea offered a small smile and gestured to the magazine in her hand. "Thanks. Anything interesting in the latest Quibbler?" </p><p>Luna paused thoughtfully before answering, "Well, a colony of Horklumps was spotted growing in Bibury. No photos as of yet, but I'm sure someone will document the colony soon." </p><p>Andrea nodded politely and Luna returned to her magazine, seeming content to end the conversation there. </p><p>Despite being in the same house, Andrea and Luna had never become more than acquaintances. Andrea thought Luna seemed kind and honest, even if she didn't make all that much sense sometimes. She felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about the numerous pranks played against Luna. Though Andrea had never participated in the pranks, she hadn't tried to stop them either. </p><p>Andrea pulled her black velvet jacket tighter around her body. It was a cold night for September, already lower than 5 degrees. </p><p>"Do you mind if I perform a warming charm?" Andrea asked Luna, rubbing her cold wands together for some warmth. </p><p>The blonde girl opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice. </p><p>"What is it?" asked the voice from below the carriage. </p><p>Andrea twisted in her seat to see who the voice belonged to and saw Harry Potter flanked by his usual companions, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. </p><p>Harry stood staring at the open space in front of the carriage, mouth slightly ajar. </p><p>"What's what?" Ron asked from his spot to the left of Harry, confused. </p><p>"Pulling the carriage?" Harry clarified, eyes wide.</p><p><i>Oh</i>, Andrea realized. <i>It must be the Thestrals.</i></p><p>Though she couldn't see Thestrals herself, Andrea had read about them in Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them. She'd theorized that the Hogwarts carriages were pulled by Thestrals, but she hadn't been sure until now. </p><p>Hermione Granger stood at Harry's right. She pursed her lips, sharing a concerned look with Ron. "Nothing's pulling the carriage, Harry. It's pulling itself, like always." </p><p>"You're not going mad," Luna interrupted, her lilting voice catching Harry's attention. "I can see them too. You're just as sane as I am." </p><p>Andrea stifled a smirk at the fleeting look of panic on Harry's face. Luna probably didn't realize how discomforting that sounded coming from her. </p><p>Harry's eyes lingered on the Thestrals only he and Luna could see for a few moments until Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him to the steps of the carriage. Harry entered first, an unreadable expression on his face, followed by Hermione and Ron, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes. Another Gryffindor that Andrea couldn't remember the name of trailed behind them, holding an unsightly plant. The plant was giving off a slightly putrid smell, and Andrea struggled not to wrinkle her nose. </p><p>Hermione, thankfully, sat on the opposite end of the carriage. Andrea had never liked the girl. It was incredibly annoying, not to mention rude, when Hermione decided to blurt out answers instead of waiting to be called on. It didn't help that everyone always said that Hermione was top of their class in every subject, when Andrea knew for a fact that she had secured the top grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts every year except for second (which was completely unfair, if it wasn't for that ridiculous quiz at the beginning of the year about what Professor Lockhart's favorite color was, she would have been first). </p><p>Harry slid into the seat next to Andrea, sending her a half-smile in greeting. Their shared interest in becoming aurors meant they had crossed paths quite a bit academically, though Andrea speculated he only wanted to become an auror because he wasn't sure what else to do. Overall, he was nice enough and generally pulled his weight during class, although often distracted (which, given that he seemed to be perpetually in mortal peril, was understandable). </p><p>Plus, her father hated him, which meant Andrea liked him on principle. </p><p>Ron acknowledged her with a stiff nod from the seat across from her, his eyes wary. She didn't blame him. Andrea may not have been a Slytherin, but she was still from a quintessentially pureblood family, and families like hers didn't have the best track record with Weasleys. Part of her wanted to defend herself—say something along the lines of <i>relax, I'm not a classist asshole</i>—but a larger part of her decided it was better not to rock the boat, so instead she just returned his nod and looked away. </p><p>Hermione took it upon herself to introduce Luna to the other Gryffindors. "Everyone, this is Loony Lovego-" </p><p>She cut off when she realized her mistake. Andrea winced, hoping Luna didn't notice. </p><p>"Luna Lovegood," Hermione corrected, looking flustered. </p><p>If she didn't feel so bad for Luna, Andrea would have found Hermione's obvious embarrassment entertaining. </p><p>The carriage lurched forward, beginning its path to the castle. Andrea swiveled her body and tuned out her fellow students' chatter, intent on taking in the moving scenery. The air was crisp, and undoubtedly turning her cheeks and ears bright red, but Andrea couldn't bring herself to care because it smelled like Hogwarts. </p><p>She was home. </p><p>+++ </p><p>Andrea scowled at the petite pink-clad woman standing at the front of the DADA class. She had already disliked Dolores Umbridge based on solely on her reputation at the Ministry (her voting record on the Wizengamot reeked of blood supremacy), but she had stubbornly held out hope that she might be a somewhat competent teacher. That certainly wasn't the case. They had spent the last thirty minutes reading a textbook passage about banishing pygmy puffs—pygmy puffs! With her teaching style, Andrea was going to have to work extra hard outside of class to even have a chance of getting an Outstanding on her DADA OWL. </p><p>Even Umbridge's voice was annoying. It was high-pitched and tinny, and sounded like a Muggle infomercial. </p><p>She tore her eyes away from the professor, refocusing on a crack in the concrete of one of the walls. It wouldn't do her any good to be caught glaring. Not if she wanted the woman to sponsor her club.</p><p>Andrea had founded the Women in Defense club in her third-year. It had started as a small group of Ravenclaw girls who wanted to learn more about defense against the dark arts without dealing with sexist comments from their male peers (Terry Boot had once told one of Andrea's classmates that "her magic would be better served performing domestic charms than banishing a boggart"). At first, the group just listened to Professor Lupin give lectures on material outside the normal curriculum, but the group soon grew restless, wanting to execute spells instead of just hear about them. With Professor Lupin's guidance, Andrea started setting up club meetings to practice specific spells. By the spring, Andrea was teaching those lessons herself. Defensive magic came easy to her, and she loved spending her time teaching it. </p><p>Andrea was proud to say that the club numbers had climbed to nearly forty girls since third year, with representation from all four houses. Besides Frog Choir, Women in Defense was the most well-attended extracurricular at Hogwarts. </p><p>The only problem was that the Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher never seemed to stick and every year Andrea was left trying to petition the next teacher to sponsor her club. Professor Lupin had been more than happy to help and Professor Moody-who-turned-out-not-be-Professor-Moody-after-all told her that he would sign whatever needed to be signed as long as she didn't expect him to do anything, but something told her that Umbridge would require extra convincing. </p><p>"Something interesting on the wall, Miss Selwyn?" Umbridge squeaked from the front of the room, her high-pitched voice piercing through Andrea's thoughts. </p><p>"I beg your pardon, Professor?" </p><p>"Well, you've been staring at that wall instead of your book for the past several minutes. I figured there must be something interesting on the wall," she clarified, her face contorted in a smug expression. </p><p>Andrea's temper simmered beneath her skin, begging to lash out, but Andrea shoved it deep down inside and answered levelly. "My bad, Professor. I finished the reading and was reviewing in my head." </p><p>Umbridge smiled all-too-sweetly. "You may review with your head down, Miss Selwyn. No need for distractions in my classroom." </p><p>It took all of Andrea's strength to hold her tongue. </p><p>As soon as Umbridge turned around, Andrea felt a quill poke her in the back. Almost reflexively, Andrea outstretched her left hand for the note she knew was waiting for her. </p><p>Andrea and her best friend Lyssa O'Brien had long ago perfected their note-passing method. One quill poke meant a note was coming on your left. Two quill pokes for the right. </p><p>Her left hand closed around the folded piece of parchment and Andrea swiftly slipped it into the pages of her book. </p><p>Andrea glanced at Umbridge to ensure her back was turned before unfolding the parchment. </p><p>
  <i>Willow tree tonight? </i>
</p><p>Andrea's lips quirked into a small smile. In second year, they had started a tradition of sneaking out after hours to the massive willow tree near the Forbidden Forest (not the Womping one, obviously). She bit her lip, wondering if she could get out of Prefect duties that night. </p><p>Probably better not slack off on her first day, she thought, inking a no onto the other side of the parchment and slipping it back to Lyssa. </p><p>Andrea and Lyssa became friends in first-year potions class, when Andrea saved Lyssa from making a particularly explosive mistake with one of her potions. Lyssa had been so glad not to turn out like Seamus Finnegan that she immediately befriended Andrea.</p><p>Andrea and Lyssa complimented each other so perfectly that Andrea had often wondered if platonic soulmates were possible. Andrea was controlled and polished; Lyssa was boisterous and unrestrained. Andrea kept Lyssa grounded; Lyssa challenged Andrea. The two fit together like opposite puzzle pieces. </p><p>Watching the time tick by on the rather large clock at the front of the room, Andrea considered sending another note back to Lyssa, but decided not to risk another scolding from Umbridge. </p><p>When the minute hand finally hit 11:00am, Andrea, along with thirty other relieved fifth-years, was all too eager to exit the classroom. A bored Seamus Finnegan practically bounced out of his chair. </p><p>"Ehem, ehem," Umbridge cleared her throat quietly. "I'm not sure what any of you think you are doing by standing up." </p><p>"It's eleven," Parvati Patil said bravely, pointing towards the clock.</p><p>"And?" Umbridge asked, eyebrows raised. </p><p>"The class ends at eleven," Parvati added.</p><p>Umbridge shook her head and giggled. Literally giggled. As if Andrea could dislike the woman more. </p><p>"The clock does not dismiss you. I do," she said, condescendingly. "Let's try this again. Everyone sit down." </p><p>Andrea's classmates looked at each other, bewildered. Harry Potter looked like he might actually pull out his wand and challenge the professor to a duel. </p><p>"I said, sit down," Umbridge repeated firmly, eyes sweeping over the group of students.</p><p>Lyssa rolled her eyes and Andrea shrugged, returning to her seat. The other students followed until everyone was seated. </p><p>"In my classroom, you will not leave until I say you may leave. Are we clear?"</p><p>Andrea stared at the new professor, distaste growing. </p><p>"Now that we've cleared that up, you may leave," Umbridge said, gesturing to the door. "Next time, you will wait until I dismiss you." </p><p>The students hurriedly made their way to the classroom door, eager to get as far away from the new Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher as possible. </p><p>"What a tosser," Lyssa mumbled as they exited the class. </p><p>"Tell me about it," Andrea mumbled back. </p><p>"Hey, why can't you come to the willow tree tonight? We always go on the first night back," Lyssa asked, looking a little hurt. </p><p>Andrea looked at Lyssa, debating whether to tell Lyssa about the Prefect meeting. They had both interviewed for the Prefect position, and she hadn't told Lyssa yet about the acceptance letter she had received over the summer. </p><p>She was going to find out sooner or later, Andrea reasoned, and pulled a silver P out of her robes, eliciting a gasp from Lyssa. </p><p>"You got prefect?!" she exclaimed, jumping a little. "So, that's why you weren't in our compartment on the train! You were at the Prefect meeting! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" </p><p>"Well, we both wanted Prefect and, honestly, I thought it might make things awkward," Andrea admitted. </p><p>"Nonsense!" Lyssa dismissed immediately. "I will always be happy for your successes. Just as long as your head doesn't blow up to the size of a watermelon." </p><p>A weight lifted off Andrea's shoulders. She hadn't realized how worried she had been about Lyssa's reaction to her selection as Prefect. Andrea didn't mind competing against other students—she was actually an incredibly competitive person by nature—but competing against Lyssa had felt wrong. She was glad it was over. </p><p>"I missed you over the holiday, Lyssa," Andrea said quietly.</p><p>Lyssa snorted. "Well, duh. It's hard <i>not</i> to miss me." </p><p>"I'm serious," Andrea said, a hint of a smile dancing across her angular features. "I missed you." </p><p>"I know you who you didn't miss," Lyssa said, a mischievous look in her eye. </p><p>Andrea raised her brows in question. </p><p>"Draco Malfoy." </p><p>Andrea sent her best friend a dry look. "Just because we occasionally talk at those ridiculous pureblood functions does not mean we're into each other." </p><p>"Keep saying that to yourself, Andrea," said Lyssa playfully. "Maybe it'll stick one of these times." </p><p>"I take it back. I don't know why I ever missed you," Andrea quipped. </p><p>"You missed me because you love me," Lyssa said dramatically, placing her hand over her heart. </p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes, but the upturn of her lips betrayed her. </p><p>"What class do you have next?" Lyssa asked, craning her neck to see the schedule in Andrea's arms. </p><p>"Divination with Trelawney. You?" </p><p>"Bummer. I have Charms with Flitwick," Lyssa said, pouting. "I'll see you at lunch?" </p><p>Andrea nodded her agreement and headed to the east staircase. She sighed when she reached the bottom of the steps, working up the motivation to walk the seven flights up. </p><p>She couldn't wait until she was legally able to apparate. After that, she would never be taking stairs again. </p><p>By the time she reached the last flight, Andrea was irritated to find she was winded. She needed to get back into shape if she wanted to lead the Ravenclaw quidditch team to victory this season. After Roger Davies moved schools, the position of quidditch captain had fallen into Andrea's lap. Not that she wasn't grateful for the opportunity—she really was—it was just so much pressure, especially when she had Prefect duties, a club to run and OWLs to study for. She resigned to spend the evening at the quidditch pitch brushing up on her keeper skills. </p><p>Andrea pushed open the door to the classroom and was grateful to see Marcel Laurent, one of her housemates, sitting in the back of the classroom. She found a seat next to him and pulled her Divination book out of her bag, nodding at him in greeting. </p><p>Marcel nodded in response, opting for a non-verbal interaction. Andrea didn't mind. Better not to fuel the overactive Hogwarts rumor mill. </p><p>Since becoming friends in third year, Andrea and Marcel had often been called the Ravenclaw power couple. The two of them found the title somewhat amusing, given they had no romantic interest in each other whatsoever. Lyssa repeatedly offered to hex anyone who repeated the rumor, but Andrea and Marcel had never cared enough to actively engage in the drama. </p><p>Professor Trelawney waved her hands chaotically at the front of the room, attempting—and failing—to get the students' attention. This continued for several minutes before a Gryffindor finally yelled at everyone to listen. </p><p>"It's so good to see you all alive and well," Trelawney started, speaking in her dramatic way. "Summer is a beautiful thing, but fickle and fleeting. Within time, we always come back to the cold walls of the castle." </p><p>Andrea exchanged a sarcastic glance with Marcel at the professor's theatrics. </p><p>"I have foreseen a great storm on the horizon. One we must weather proudly and with unity," she continued, eliciting more than a few eye rolls from class. Anyone with half a brain cell could have made that prediction. After the Triwizard Tournament, anything was possible. </p><p>"In order to weather that storm, I'd like all of you to join me on an exciting new approach to learning," she carried on, arms gesturing wildly. "For this year of divination, I will be assigning you with a partner outside of your house."</p><p>The class instantly groaned.</p><p>Trelawney stepped forward, arms wide. "Do not be scared, children. Be excited to extend your circle of love to unlikely friends!" </p><p>Marcel looked at Andrea, who shrugged. "Looks like we're making new friends," said Andrea wryly, packing her materials back into her bag as Trelawney called her to be matched with her partner.</p><p>"Be nice," Marcel teased, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. </p><p>"When am I not?" Andrea countered lightly over her shoulder. </p><p>As she made her way to the front, she glanced around the room, observing her potential partners. Dean Thomas from Gryffindor sat at the front of the room, flipping dutifully through his Divination book. Andrea decided she wouldn't mind being paired with him. </p><p>Andrea's eyes wandered to the Hufflepuff side of the classroom. Maybe she'd end up paired with Susan Bones. She was a bit of a pushover, but Andrea tended to dominate group projects anyway. </p><p>As she reached the front, Trelawney grasped her wrist rather unexpectedly. Andrea blinked in surprise. </p><p>"Don't be frightened, dear. I'm reading your aura to find someone to pair with you with," Trelawney explained. Andrea restrained her eye roll. </p><p>The professor closed her eyes and swayed back and forth until finally gasping. "Yes, yes. I know exactly who I will pair you with." </p><p>"Draco, dear, please come to the front," Trelawney said, waving the blonde haired boy over from the group of Slytherins.</p><p>Andrea lips twitched, the only sign of her approval. At least it was someone she knew. Even if he was an ass. </p><p>Draco strolled to the front of the classroom, platinum hair flopping haphazardly over his forehead. </p><p>Grasping Draco's arm, Professor Trelawney closed her eyes for a second time. "Oh, yes. This is quite the fortuitous pairing." </p><p>Draco looked at Andrea, eyebrows raised.</p><p>"Please, find seats together and begin the process of deconstructing each other's outer aura," Trelawney instructed, waving the two away. </p><p>Andrea glanced around the room, looking for two free seats. "How about there?" she said, motioning to a pair of seats by the window. </p><p>Draco scoffed. "Way too close to the Gryffindors." </p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes. "You know the point of this exercise is to emphasize interhouse unity, right?" </p><p>Draco slipped his hands into his pockets. "What a load of rubbish." </p><p>Andrea thought so too, but she wasn't about to agree with Draco. </p><p>"How about over there?" she offered, gesturing at a pair of seats by the group of Slytherins. </p><p>"That's more like it." </p><p>The pair found their way to the seats and Andrea found herself suppressing a cough as she caught a whiff of some very strong perfume. </p><p>Draco smirked, noticing her reaction. "That would be Pansy. She has a bad habit of dousing herself in fragrance." </p><p>Pansy's head popped up at the sound of her name. "Talking about me, Draco? Glad to see I'm on your mind." </p><p>"Correction: I'm talking about your perfume. Did you accidentally spray the whole bottle on yourself today?" he threw back.</p><p>Pansy sent him a dirty look, turning back around to her own partner, a Hufflepuff named Hannah Abbott. </p><p>Poor Hannah. </p><p>Looking back at Draco, Andrea suggested, "Shall we deconstruct each other's outer aura?" </p><p>Draco leaned back into his chair, shaking his head slightly. "See, this is the problem with you, Andrea. You actually want to do the assignments in these wretched classes." </p><p>"Unlike <i>some</i> people, I actually want to do well on my OWLs this year," Andrea retorted, tossing her glossy black hair over her shoulder. </p><p>"You do realize your grade in this class has no impact on your OWL score, right?"</p><p>Andrea pursed her lips in frustration. "Yes, but paying attention and doing the assignments will help us prepare for our OWLs." </p><p>"What's in it for me?" </p><p>"What do you mean?" Andrea asked warily. </p><p>"The way I look at it, you get to prepare for your OWLs, but I don't get anything from participating in these ridiculous class assignments," he elaborated.</p><p>"You're taking OWLs, too," Andrea reminded him. </p><p>Draco waved her off. "I don't care about those. Especially not an OWL on something as pointless as Divination." </p><p>"Fine," Andrea conceded. Sometimes the path of least resistance really was the best option. "What do you want?" </p><p>"Write my herbology papers for a month." </p><p>Andrea sighed, already reconsidering being glad about having Draco as a partner. He was unreasonably lazy. </p><p>"Two weeks," she negotiated. </p><p>"Three weeks," he countered. </p><p>Andrea pinched the bridge of her nose. </p><p>"I'll write your herbology papers for three weeks. But, that means you have to participate in these Divination assignments," she declared, sticking her hand out for him to shake. </p><p>Draco smirked. "Deal." </p><p>Andrea could already tell this was going to be a long year.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. origami ravens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>THE Great Hall was buzzing with students, hungry for a quick breakfast before classes. Andrea sat between Lyssa and Marcel, pulling a cherry pastry onto her plate. </p><p>"It's cruel and unusual!" Lyssa exclaimed passionately. The rumors of Umbridge's favored method of punishment had spread through Hogwarts like wildfire. "Blood Quills were banned from Hogwarts decades ago!" </p><p>"I can't say I'm surprised," replied Andrea. "It's Umbridge." </p><p>Marcel hummed his agreement, carefully sipping his cup of black coffee. </p><p>"If Dumbledore doesn't fire her immediately, he's gone mad," Lyssa continued, voice raised.</p><p>Andrea took a bite of her pastry, chewing slowly. "He can't fire her. Not with all the scrutiny from the Ministry," she pointed out, swallowing her pastry. </p><p>"That's so unfair!" Lyssa complained. "The Ministry's political agenda should not be interfering with our education and safety." </p><p>"It's not like we can do anything about it," said Andrea, resigned. "We'll just have to do our best to stay out of her way." </p><p>Andrea's best friend stabbed at her pancakes aggressively. </p><p>"Murdering those pancakes definitely won't do anything," Andrea added lightly, taking a sip from her glass of pumpkin juice. </p><p>Lyssa shot her a glare. "It'll make me feel better." </p><p>Andrea put her hands up in surrender, exchanging an amused glance with Marcel. "Whatever works for you." </p><p>"When do you find out if you got that assistant position with Madam Pomfrey?" Andrea asked Lyssa, changing the topic.</p><p>Lyssa's eyes lit up at the question. She wanted to attend mediwitch school after graduation and clinical experience in the Hogwarts hospital wing would be a great addition to her resume.</p><p>"Tomorrow!" said Lyssa. "I have a really good feeling about it. The only person who could maybe edge me out would be Mandy Brocklehurst, but I definitely have a stronger academic record than her." </p><p>"I'm sure you'll get it," Andrea reassured honestly. Lyssa was wicked smart when it came to healing spells and potions. </p><p>"Speaking of career goals," Lyssa pivoted, leaning over the table to look at Marcel. "I never got the chance to ask you about your summer internship at Gringotts. How'd it go?" </p><p>Marcel paused, apparently displeased to have been brought into the conversation. He wasn't one for small talk. </p><p>"It was great, thank you," he responded briefly, though not impolitely.</p><p>Lyssa continued to pepper him with questions, unfazed by his short replies. </p><p>Andrea took the opportunity to take in the Great Hall. No matter how many times she sat in this room, the room always inspired a sense of awe. She wished she could cling to that awe, carry it in her pocket to take out when the world felt cold. </p><p>Her survey of the room led her to the Slytherin table. She found herself making eye contact with a certain blonde. </p><p>Draco's eyes widened, before smirking and sending a wink. </p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes and pointedly looked away. That boy would flirt with anything that walked.</p><p>"Woah, Andy, what was that?!" exclaimed Lyssa. "You and Malfoy were totally having a moment." </p><p>Andrea gave Lyssa a dry look. "He refused to work with me during Divination unless I committed to writing his herbology essays for three weeks. Trust me, I am not interested."</p><p>"That's just foreplay," said Lyssa dismissively, waggling her eyebrows. </p><p>Marcel choked on his coffee. </p><p>"Lyssa!" scolded Andrea, hitting her in the arm.</p><p>"What?" Lyssa asked innocently. "I'm just saying." </p><p>"Sometimes I question why I'm still friends with you," said Andrea, shaking her head. </p><p>"Please. You wouldn't last a day without me," retorted Lyssa, scooping more pancakes onto her plate. </p><p>Andrea raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really?" </p><p>"You would wither and die," Lyssa confirmed, proceeding to drown her pancakes in syrup. </p><p>+++</p><p>"Draco, we need to work on our assignment," said Andrea for what felt like the hundredth time. Her patience was running thin. </p><p>"Is that not what we've been doing?" Draco asked, feigning innocence. </p><p>"No, I've been trying to do the assignment and you've been making origami snakes." </p><p>"Ah, I see the problem here. Maybe you'll like this better." Draco tapped his wand on another piece of paper, watching as it folded itself into a raven. </p><p>"I'd like if you opened your Divination book to the section on detecting destinies with time charms." </p><p>"I don't need any time charm. I can tell someone's destiny just by looking at them," Draco said flippantly, leaning back in the wooden library chair. </p><p>Andrea put down her quill, exasperated. "Oh, really? You can just look at someone and see their future?" </p><p>"Yep," he said, confidently pointing at a Hufflepuff boy in the far corner of the library. "See that boy? He's going to look over here any second." </p><p>Andrea crossed her arms over her chest. "I highly doubt that." </p><p>Draco smirked and waved his wand at the origami raven. The paper bird took on a life of its own and flew full speed into the back of the Hufflepuff's head, who indeed turned around in surprise. </p><p>"See? I predicted the future," said Draco. </p><p>Andrea shook her head. "You didn't predict the future, you manipulated it. There's a difference." </p><p>He shrugged, drumming his fingers lightly on the wooden arm of his chair. </p><p>"Which you would know if you read your Divination textbook," Andrea added, raising her eyebrows. </p><p>"I guess we could try doing it your way," Draco drawled, pushing up from his leaning position. </p><p>Andrea internally sent a thank you up to Merlin.</p><p>"Page 432. Let's read first and then discuss," Andrea said, flipping to the right page in her textbook. </p><p>Andrea started skimming the passage, using her tried-and-true annotation method in the margins. Every couple minutes, she felt Draco's eyes on her, but every time she looked up, his eyes darted back to his book. </p><p>The fifth time she caught him looking at her, she asked "Is there something on my face?" </p><p>"Pardon?"</p><p>"You keep looking at me," Andrea accused. "Why?" </p><p>Draco's lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever told you this, but you're pretty for a Ravenclaw." </p><p>Andrea scoffed. "Excuse me?" </p><p>"Don't get me wrong, I would never involve myself with someone from a different house, but as far as Ravenclaws go, you're alright." </p><p>What a prejudiced misogynistic twat, Andrea thought. </p><p>"What made you think I wanted your opinion on my appearance?" Andrea asked, arching a brow. </p><p>"It's a compliment, darling," Draco drawled. "Take it." </p><p>Andrea pursed her lips, counting to ten.</p><p>Once Andrea composed herself, she looked Draco dead in the eye and said, "For your information, "pretty for a Ravenclaw" and "alright" aren't compliments. Feel free to keep those to yourself, along with any other opinions you have on my appearance. I don't need you to tell me I'm pretty. I have a perfectly good mirror in my dormitory." </p><p>Draco's eyes widened for a millisecond before he schooled his expression back into his trademark smirk. "I should've known you were such a feminist. What with that Women in Defense nonsense." </p><p>Andrea glared at him. "It's not nonsense. And you shouldn't use the word feminist like its an insult." </p><p>Draco's grin broadened. "I would've thought a pureblood family like yours would have stamped this very unladylike behavior out of you." </p><p>Andrea winced. Her opinions on gender equality were a bit of a sore spot between her father and her. </p><p>"Not that it's any business of yours, but my father is very supportive," Andrea recovered effortlessly, crossing her arms. </p><p>Draco remained unconvinced. "I'm sure he is. Just like he's supportive of mixing pure and Muggle blood, rights for Mudbloods—"</p><p>"Don't say that word," Andrea interrupted abruptly. </p><p>The blonde rolled his eyes and continued, "rights for Muggle-borns, rights for gay witches and wizards, need I go on?" </p><p>"Just because your parents taught you to hate doesn't mean mine did," Andrea fired back. </p><p>He laughed and leaned forward, letting his blonde hair fall in front of his eyes. "Don't forget we grew up in the same worlds, Andrea. I know exactly who and what your father is." </p><p>It was true, of course, and they both knew it. Aster Selwyn wasn't exactly a warm personality.  Andrea still defended him out of reflexive family loyalty. </p><p>"Say one more word about my father and I won't hesitate to hex you until you're unrecognizable." </p><p>Draco leaned forward further, until Andrea could see the silver flecks in his grey eyes. She ignored the goosebumps that prickled her arms. </p><p>"I would disarm you before the words were even out of your mouth," he replied confidently.  </p><p>Andrea was the one to lean forward this time, not one to play defense. She leaned close and whispered into his ear, "You say that like I would give you enough time to grab your wand." </p><p>Pulling back, Andrea met those cool silver-grey eyes with a fiery gaze. For a moment, they were locked in a staring match, both battling for dominance, neither willing to yield to the other. </p><p>It was Draco who ultimately looked away. </p><p>"Page 432 then?" he asked casually. His face was impassive, but his reddening ears gave him away. Andrea took comfort in knowing that she had won this round. </p><p>"Page 432," she confirmed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. the willow tree</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'M sorry, Miss Selwyn. I just can't sponsor a club that supports violence," said Umbridge. </p><p>"It doesn't support violence, it supports defending against violence," Andrea argued, struggling to keep up with Umbridge as she walked through the corridor. The woman walked remarkably fast for someone so short. </p><p>Umbridge shook her head daintily. "And what need would there be for children to defend against violence?" she asked. </p><p>Andrea flexed her palms at her sides, frustrated. "It's a pre-professional club. Most of the girls want to pursue a career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she reasoned. </p><p>"Are you unaware that the Ministry offers training after graduation for those interested in Magical Law Enforcement?" Umbridge challenged, leveling Andrea with a maddeningly sweet stare. </p><p>"Yes, but you have to apply for those programs and it looks good on the application to have prior experience," Andrea contended, but Umbridge was already shaking her head again. </p><p>"My decision, dear, is final. If you come up with a more age-appropriate club, please don't hesitate to seek me out," she said, placing her hand on Andrea's shoulder. Andrea struggled not to shrug her off. </p><p>"Now, if that is all, I have some very important matters to discuss with your headmaster," Umbridge said, waving Andrea off. </p><p>Andrea forced out a thank you and walked back to the Ravenclaw common room, frustration thrumming through her veins. </p><p>She barely had enough patience to solve the entry riddle, wanting to kick down the door instead. </p><p>"Uh oh, that bad, huh?" asked Lyssa when Andrea stormed into the common room. </p><p>Andrea sighed angrily, pacing back and forth. "She called it "non-age-appropriate". As if we're dueling to the death during our meetings," she repeated, incredulous. </p><p>"Well, Tracey Davis did almost blow up Pansy Parkinson after one your meetings," Lyssa joked. </p><p>Andrea gave her a flat look. "That's not funny right now." </p><p>Lyssa held up her hands in surrender. "Sorry, you're right." </p><p>"And, for the record, it's not like I knew Tracey was going to try to use the Reductor curse on another human being when I taught it to her," Andrea defended, sitting down next to Lyssa on the blue sofa. </p><p>"You know what we need?" announced Lyssa. "The willow tree." </p><p>Andrea crossed her arms. "How's the willow tree going to help? Last time I checked, plants can't sponsor student groups." </p><p>"No, but a little after-hours thrill never hurt anybody," Lyssa said mischievously, eyes twinkling.</p><p>+++</p><p>Three hours later, night had fallen over the Hogwarts castle, bathing the halls in shadow. The average student wouldn't be able to find their way around the castle with such little light, but Andrea and Lyssa knew the way to the willow tree by heart. Take the west staircase next to the Ravenclaw common room—and not a moment before 9:32pm, or else the staircase will have moved. Feel around for the painting missing a corner of its frame. Pull the frame back to enter the secret passageway out of the castle. Walk twenty paces until the concrete of the wall turns soft and mossy. At the end of the passage, knock three times on the wall to trigger the magic that opens the door to the outside of the castle. </p><p>Andrea felt giddy when the night air hit her face. The castle was beautiful, but the tall stone walls could start to feel claustrophobic if you spent too much time inside. </p><p>A breeze picked up Andrea's dark locks, pulling deliciously at her scalp. </p><p>Lyssa grinned at Andrea. "Feels good, doesn't it?"</p><p>Andrea could only nod in agreement, face upturned to the night sky, skin absorbing the fresh air. The air smelled faintly of blooming thistles and dew from yesterday's rain. </p><p>On their walk to the willow tree, Andrea noticed something odd. </p><p>"Hagrid's chimney still isn't wafting smoke," she remarked, brows furrowed. </p><p>Lyssa followed Andrea's line of sight to Hagrid's cabin at the edge of the forest. </p><p>"It's been two weeks," said Andrea. "I would have thought he'd be back by now." </p><p>Lyssa surreptitiously looked around to see if anyone else was around before whispering, "You didn't hear this from me, but my cousin Helena—you know, the one getting her degree in the study of magical creatures—has been living with the giants up north for her research project and she sent me an owl a couple days ago saying she's seen Hagrid up there." </p><p>Andrea raised her eyebrows. "What could Hagrid be doing talking to the giants? Talking to family?" she asked, referencing Hagrid's giant lineage. </p><p>"Helena thinks he's there to keep them from joining You-Know-Who," Lyssa said uneasily. </p><p>Andrea stiffened. You'd think growing up around ex-Death Eaters would numb you from the thought of You-Know-Who, but the horrific stories she'd heard sent shivers down her spine. </p><p>Andrea shoved her fear down, forcing herself to keep talking. "For everyone's sake, I hope he's successful. Don't you remember the giants from the Germanic Wizarding War? How ruthless they were?" </p><p>Lyssa nodded, her face unusually solemn. </p><p>The two teenage girls rounded the corner of the forest, the shadow of the willow tree coming into view. </p><p>The willow tree glistened with nighttime dew, its curtains of leaves swaying slightly in the breeze. Just out of sight of Hagrid's cabin and the castle, it served as the perfect spot to hide away from the real world, even if only for a little while. </p><p>Lyssa, seeming to have regained some of her characteristic cheer, grabbed Andrea's hand, pulling her along until they stood right in front of the willow tree. </p><p>"Would you like to do the honors?" Lyssa offered, holding a section of the branches back for Andrea to slip underneath. </p><p>Andrea smiled and stooped down to enter the tree's cover, pulling out her wand and performing a hot-air charm to warm up the area. </p><p>Lyssa stepped in after, transfiguring a few leaves into pillows. </p><p>After they arranged the space just the way they liked it, they laid down and gazed upward, the deep purple-blue of the night sky bleeding through the gaps in the leaves. Andrea was more than content to lay there in silence, but she knew Lyssa hated the quiet, so Lyssa chattered away and Andrea hummed her agreement or disagreement at the appropriate times. Lyssa gossiped about the new sixth year transfer from Durmstrang who the Weasley twins had already fooled into thinking it was customary for new students to do returning students' laundry all year. </p><p>As Lyssa talked, something that had been nagging Andrea clicked in her brain.</p><p>"And this poor boy, he—" </p><p> Andrea cut Lyssa off, surprising her. "Lyssa, did you say that the giants live up north?" </p><p>"Yeah, why?" </p><p>Andrea pursed her lips. "Because my father mentioned he was going on a business trip up north in his letter from last week." </p><p>Lyssa's eyes widened. "You don't think . . ." she trailed off. </p><p>Andrea bit her lip, glad for the privacy of the willow tree. "My father's always been secretive, but it's gotten worse since the Triwizard Tournament. I don't know for sure that it means anything at all, but I have a bad feeling." </p><p>Andrea shifted onto her side to face Lyssa.</p><p>"He never really . . ." Andrea struggled to find the right words. "He never really stopped supporting You-Know-Who, I suppose. The way he talks about him, Lyssa, it's awful. It's like he worships him." </p><p>Andrea tugged at a blade of grass in the ground, unable to make eye contact with Lyssa. Sharing personal details about her home life had never been easy. </p><p>"It could be nothing," Lyssa rationalized. "There are plenty of reasons for your father to go up north that don't include the giants." </p><p>"You're right," agreed Andrea, shifting onto her back. She stared at the swaying branches of the willow tree, following the shifting patterns of the leaves. </p><p>"It's probably nothing," she repeated, more to convince herself than Lyssa. </p><p>Andrea really hoped it was nothing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. the kitchens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>LYSSA had been right. Even if the willow tree couldn't solve Andrea's search for a club sponsor, it did make her feel calmer. The tree had a therapeutic quality Andrea couldn't quite put her finger on, and she always felt a purifying sense of clarity after she went there. </p><p>Still, she worried about her father. It was all too coincidental that he decided to take a business trip up north right after Hagrid went to parlay with the giants. </p><p>Andrea thought about sending him an owl to see if she could squeeze out more details, but, truthfully, she was scared he would confirm that he was a Death Eater again. Andrea wasn't sure what she would do if he was. </p><p>On one hand, Andrea knew that being a Death Eater was wrong. Worse than wrong, really. It was evil. On the other hand, he was still her father—a cool, distant father who didn't believe in affection and was quick to anger—but a father nonetheless. </p><p>Andrea shook her head, trying to refocus on the Prefect reports in front of her. She had been neglecting her Prefect duties recently and the work had piled up. Andrea cursed herself for being so irresponsible. </p><p>She dipped her quill in ink, scratching the date into the lefthand corner of the parchment and sighing at the otherwise blank parchment. This was going to take hours. She was not looking forward to early morning Quidditch practice tomorrow. </p><p>A pair of giggling first years walked down the dormitory stairs, disrupting Andrea's space. They froze when they saw her, wide-eyed. </p><p>One of the first years, a larger boy who hadn't quite lost his baby fat, leaned over to the petite blonde next to him, whispering something unintelligible. The girl nodded and stepped towards Andrea bravely. </p><p>"Hi. My name is Vira and this is Jax," she said matter-of-factly. "We were going to sneak out of the common room and down to the kitchens for a snack, but seeing as you're here, maybe you could take us instead." </p><p>Andrea raised her eyebrows, impressed by the younger girl's courage. She should have been put in Gryffindor. </p><p>"You do realize I'm a prefect, right? And going down to the kitchens with you would be against the rules?" </p><p>The younger girl named Vira looked at the boy uncertainly. Apparently, they hadn't thought this through. </p><p>"Yes?" said the boy Jax, hesitantly. </p><p>Andrea glanced between the two first years and the empty parchment on her desk. Looks like the Prefect reports would have to wait. </p><p>"Good thing I'm the cool Ravenclaw Prefect," she said, eliciting excited smiles from the two first years. "Come on, I'll take you down." </p><p>Jax's big blue eyes went wide. "Really?" </p><p>"Really," Andrea confirmed, standing up from her chair. "Just be glad you didn't ask the other fifth year Prefect. He would have written you up right away." </p><p>The two first years were practically bouncing with excitement on the way down to the kitchens. Andrea had to hush them several times, in case Filch or Mrs. Norris were patrolling the halls. </p><p>"Andrea, you really are the coolest. I don't know why everyone says all those things about you," Jax chattered, prompting Vira to elbow him hard. </p><p>"Ow!" </p><p>"Shut up," she hissed. </p><p>"What was that for?" an incredulous Jax exclaimed, oblivious. </p><p>Andrea looked back at Jax curiously. "What exactly do people say about me?" </p><p>Vira shook her head at Jax, but he didn't seem to notice. </p><p>"Well," he started. "People are scared of you." </p><p>Andrea lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "People are scared of me? Why would anyone be scared of me?" </p><p>Jax shrugged. "You never smile and you always look kind of angry." </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>Andrea turned forward, feeling hurt. Did she really come off that poorly? Sure, she wasn't exactly a peppy person, but she wasn't scary. </p><p>"I told you to shut up," Andrea heard Vira whisper to Jax. The boy grumbled something indiscernible back. </p><p>Whatever, Andrea thought. It's not like she cared about other people's opinions</p><p>The smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the hall, signaling that the kitchens were close. </p><p>"Can you smell that, Vira? They're making pumpkin pasties!" Jax whispered animatedly. </p><p>"Jax, you can't possibly tell what they're making just from smelling the air," said Vira, rolling her eyes. </p><p>"Yes, I can," Jax defended. "I can smell the pumpkin and the cinnamon. You just have a bad nose." </p><p>"I'll have you know that I have an outstanding nose," Vira retorted, folding her arms over her chest. </p><p>Andrea pulled open the heavy kitchen door, bombarded with a blast of heat from the ovens. Several pairs of house elf eyes locked onto Andrea and the two first years. </p><p>"Andrea Selwyn!" one of them cried happily. "You haven't been down here in years! Nonky has missed you!" </p><p>Andrea couldn't help but smile at her favorite house elf. During her first few years at Hogwarts, she would routinely slip down to the kitchens to eat her weight in pastries and talk to Nonky. </p><p>"I missed you too," Andrea replied, still smiling. </p><p>Nonky bustled over to the oven. "Andrea Selwyn is in luck! Nonky was just working on Andrea Selwyn's favorite: pumpkin pasties!" </p><p>"I told you," exclaimed Jax. </p><p>Vira made a face. "Lucky guess." </p><p>"Nonky was making Harry Potter's treacle tart and thought, why not make some of Andrea Selwyn's favorite, just in case? And, here you are!" Nonky babbled, pulling a metal sheet of pumpkin pasties out of the oven. </p><p>The smile slid off Andrea's face. "Harry Potter?" </p><p>"Yes!" Nonky said. "Harry Potter comes down to the kitchens often. He's just around the corner talking to Marry." </p><p>Indeed, the Gryffindor was leaning against the kitchen wall, talking with a female house elf. </p><p>Jax gasped. "Harry Potter!" </p><p>At the sound of his name, Harry looked over, startled to see other students in the kitchen. </p><p>"Uh, hello," he stammered, flustered. </p><p>Jax was much less reserved and rushed over to the older boy. "Are you really Harry Potter?" </p><p>Harry looked thoroughly uncomfortable. "Well, yes." </p><p>"Are you sure?" Jax asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. </p><p>"Pretty sure," Harry said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. </p><p>"Prove it," the younger boy demanded, crossing his arms. "Show me the scar." </p><p>Andrea decided it was time to step in. "You don't have to do that, Harry," she said, sending a stern look to Jax, who had the good sense to look sheepish. </p><p>"No, it's fine," Harry waved her off, pulling his unruly hair away from his forehead to reveal the small lightning bolt scar. </p><p>"Woah," Jax breathed. "Can I touch it?" </p><p>Vira didn't hesitate to smack Jax upside the head. "Jax, you are an embarrassment." </p><p>"Jax, you are an embarrassment," Jax mocked in a high-pitched voice. </p><p>The two continued to bicker and Andrea offered, "We can leave if you want." </p><p>Harry shook his head. "No, no, that's fine. I was just about to leave." </p><p>Andrea doubted that was true, but appreciated the thought. </p><p>As Harry made for the exit, Andrea stopped him. "Hey, Harry?" </p><p>He looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?" </p><p>Andrea hesitated, something she rarely did. </p><p>"Do people think I'm scary?"</p><p>Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Well, yeah, sort of." </p><p>Andrea looked away, trying not to let his response affect her. </p><p>"But, it's, like, in a good way. They're scared of you because you're so determined. They know you're going to do great things with your life and that, well, it intimidates them," Harry added. </p><p>Andrea gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Harry." </p><p>He shrugged. "Any time." </p><p>The two fifth years stood there awkwardly for a few moments until Harry broke the silence. </p><p>"Come to the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade tomorrow. I'm doing this—well I don't know if I'm doing it yet—this thing and I think you would be interested," he declared cryptically. </p><p>Andrea furrowed her brows, but said "Okay." </p><p>"Okay," Harry echoed. </p><p>There was another beat of silence. </p><p>"I'm gonna go now," he finally said, relieving both of them of the awkward silence.  </p><p>As Harry left the kitchens, Andrea turned around to face Nonky, who was excitedly waving a pumpkin pasty. </p><p>"Andrea Selwyn is back!" she said, hopping from foot to foot happily.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. hog's head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>JAX and Vira had not been happy when Andrea finally pulled them out of the kitchens. Begrudgingly, she had agreed to bring them back later that week, which cheered them—and Nonky—up considerably. </p><p>Unfortunately for Andrea, she still had to finish her Prefect reports after returning to the common room and ended up getting barely a wink of sleep. </p><p>Thank Merlin for caffeinated beverages and Alertness charms, Andrea thought. Without them, she was sure she would have fallen asleep on her broom at Quidditch practice that morning. </p><p>She had convinced Lyssa to take the long way to Hogsmeade, hoping the brutal cold would serve as a wake-up call. </p><p>"Andy, I cannot believe you talked me into all this extra time outside. It is freezing. Literally freezing," Lyssa griped loudly. "I can feel the water in my body turning to ice."</p><p>Andrea had told Lyssa about Harry's odd invitation during breakfast that morning and Lyssa had decided to invite herself along. </p><p>"You were the one who wanted to come," Andrea reminded her. </p><p>"It's not like I could let you go gallivanting off to the seediest bar in Hogsmeade because the Boy Who Lived asked you to," replied Lyssa dramatically. "You know, I'm still not entirely convinced he isn't the heir of Slytherin." </p><p>Andrea sent her a dubious look.</p><p>"I'm serious!" defended Lyssa. "No one else was in the chamber with him except Ron Weasley, who would 100% be willing to lie for Harry, Ginny Weasley, who was totally out of it, and Professor Lockhart, who just happened to be on the wrong end of a memory charm. That can't be a coincidence." </p><p>"Lyssa O'Brien, you've officially lost your marbles," declared Andrea, prompting a playful shove from Lyssa. </p><p>"I have not lost my marbles," she protested. "I'm just using my analytical Ravenclaw brain to poke holes in an unlikely story."</p><p>Andrea pretended to inspect Lyssa's head. "Nope, you don't have a single marble left." </p><p>"If I don't have any marbles left, it's because you stole them," Lyssa accused, arching a blonde brow at Andrea. </p><p>Andrea tried to return Lyssa's serious gaze, but couldn't help the laughter that bubbled from her stomach. Lyssa joined in, dissolving into a fit of laughter. </p><p>As they approached the Hog's Head, Andrea composed herself, tucking away the playful side she reserved for Lyssa. </p><p>The wooden door creaked loudly when Andrea opened it, a sign of the locale's old age. There were a little over twenty students already inside, standing wherever they could find space. The pub was rather small, and there weren't hardly enough seats for everyone. The windows fogged from the warmth of the bodies, blurring the view outside. It smelled strongly of BO and wood rot. Andrea did her best to swallow her gag. </p><p>"This is cozy," Lyssa muttered sarcastically. </p><p>Harry sat at the front of the crowded bar, looking terribly nervous, with Ron and Hermione flanking him on either side. He glanced expectantly at Hermione, who appeared fairly tense herself. </p><p>"Um," Hermione started, taking a big breath. "Hi." </p><p>"Wow, she is really not a good public speaker," Lyssa commented under her breath, causing Andrea to poke her in the ribs. </p><p>"So, uh, you all know why we're here. We need a teacher," Hermione continued. "A proper teacher. One who's had real experience defending themselves against the Dark Arts." </p><p>"Why?" a Hufflepuff blurted out unceremoniously, earning a dark look from Ron. </p><p>"Why?" Ron repeated incredulously. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot." </p><p>"So he says," the Hufflepuff said haughtily, nodding at Harry</p><p>"So Dumbledore says," Hermione countered.</p><p>"So Dumbledore says because he says," the Hufflepuff rebutted quickly. </p><p>Andrea restrained an eye roll. This boy was making a fool of himself. </p><p>"The point is, where's the proof?" the boy pressed on. </p><p>Harry looked even more uncomfortable than before. </p><p>"Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed," another Hufflepuff boy piped in eagerly, making Harry scowl.  </p><p>"And here I was thinking Hufflepuffs were supposed to be the kind ones," Lyssa muttered, adding to her running commentary. </p><p>Seeming fed up, Harry stood up from his seat. "I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here, you might as well clear out now." </p><p>He turned to Hermione, visibly upset. </p><p>"Is it true you can produce a Patronus charm?" Luna asked unexpectedly, her lofty voice rising above the room's whispers. </p><p>Harry stopped in his tracks, eyeing the crowd of students. When it appeared he wasn't going to answer, Hermione spoke up. </p><p>"Yes. I've seen it." </p><p>Dean Thomas looked up, stunned. "Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could do that." </p><p>"A-and, he killed a Basilisk with th-the sword in Dumbledore's office," Neville stuttered. </p><p>"It's true," Ginny confirmed, nodding. </p><p>"Still don't believe it," Lyssa whispered to Andrea, nearly causing her to laugh at what would have been a very inappropriate time. </p><p>"Third year, he fought off about a hundred Dementors at once," Ron added. </p><p>"What is this, Harry Potter's greatest hits?" Lyssa complained under her breath. Andrea shot her a disapproving glare, willing her to shut up.</p><p>"And, last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh." </p><p>"Wait," Harry interjected. "Look, it all sounds great when you say it like that, but the truth is, most of that was just luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help." </p><p>Hermione shook her head. "He's just being modest." </p><p>"No, Hermione, I'm not," Harry said firmly. "Facing this stuff, in real life, is not like school. In school, if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow. But out there? When you're a second away from being murdered or watching a friend get murdered right in front of your eyes? You don't know what that's like." </p><p>Everyone stared, stunned. Even Lyssa didn't have a snarky comment to mutter. </p><p>Hermione was the first to break the silence. "You're right, Harry, we don't. That's why we need your help. Because if we are going to have any chance of beating..." </p><p>She seemed to muster her courage. "Voldemort," she finished. </p><p>"He's really back?" a Gryffindor boy named Colin Creevy asked, his voice small. </p><p>Harry nodded solemnly, eyes glued to the floor. </p><p>One by one, the students in the Hog's Head approached the sign-up parchment Hermione had produced from her bag, agreeing to never utter a word of it to anyone outside the room. </p><p>Andrea made eye contact with Lyssa, who nodded, her eyes serious for once. The two Ravenclaws made their way to the front of the room, where Hufflepuff prefect Ernie MacMillan was ensuring that the list of members would never reach Hogwarts administration. Andrea was invested in keeping the list secret as well, albeit for a different reason. If her father were to find out she was involving herself in a secret defense group led by the Boy Who Lived, he would ...well, Andrea wasn't sure exactly what he would do, but it wouldn't be good. </p><p>Harry offered Andrea a small smile as she inked her signature onto the parchment, which she hesitantly returned. </p><p>Andrea waited for Lyssa to sign the parchment before hurrying towards the Hog's Head's exit, anxious to be out of the sweaty pub and into the crisp autumn air.</p><p>"Hey, Andrea, wait up," Harry called at the last minute, grabbing Andrea's attention. </p><p>Lyssa eyed Harry suspiciously, but Andrea shrugged her off. "Go. I'll meet you in the common room." </p><p>Lyssa paused, glancing between Harry and Andrea. </p><p>"Go. I'll be fine," Andrea assured. Lyssa gave her a skeptical look, but obliged. </p><p>Andrea focused her attention on Harry. </p><p>"What is it, Harry?" </p><p>"Well, um, I know that you started the Women in Defense club and, well, you have a lot more experience teaching defensive spells than I do," he said, scratching his head. "And, I guess, I was just wondering if you would want to be a teacher. With me." </p><p>Andrea considered the offer. With Umbridge at the helm of the Defense Against The Dark Arts department, her Women in Defense club was good as dead. She might as well put her skills to use elsewhere. </p><p>"You definitely don't have to," Harry added quickly, adjusting his glasses. "I was just thinking—" </p><p>"No," Andrea cut him off. "I'd be happy to." </p><p>"Oh, splendid," Harry replied, sounding genuinely surprised that she said yes. "We still need a space...and a time, but I'm sure we can figure something out." </p><p>"Just so you know, I have Quidditch practice from 5-7am, class from 8-3pm, more Quidditch from 5-6pm and Prefect patrols Tuesday and Thursday from 8-9pm." </p><p>Harry's eyes widened. "Blimey, Andrea. When do you do your homework?" </p><p>Andrea shrugged. "At night." </p><p>"If you do your homework at night, when do you sleep?" </p><p>Andrea's lips twitched into a half smile. "I don't." </p><p>Harry looked unnerved. </p><p>"Okay, well, I'll try to schedule our meetings somewhere that fits in your schedule. If that's even possible," he said, still looking a little bewildered.</p><p>Andrea nodded and started to turn around before deciding to say one last thing. </p><p>"You're doing a good thing here, Harry." </p><p>"Am I?" he asked uncertainly, searching Andrea's golden-brown eyes. </p><p>"Yes," Andrea said levelly, fixing him with a meaningful look. "With You-Know-Who back, we need to know how to defend ourselves more than ever. Trust me, with a family like mine, I know that better than anyone." </p><p>Something flickered in Harry's green eyes.</p><p>"Is your father—" he started to ask. </p><p>Andrea interrupted him. She knew what he wanted to ask. </p><p>Is your father a Death Eater? </p><p>"Don't ask me that," Andrea said firmly. "Please." </p><p>A look of understanding passed across Harry's face. </p><p>"Right, sorry. That was insensitive," he said apologetically, shuffling his feet awkwardly. </p><p>He didn't seem to know what to say after that. </p><p>"I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry," Andrea said, putting an end to what had become an uncomfortable conversation. "Let me know when you figure out a place and time." </p><p>As Andrea made her way back to Hogwarts, she had a brief moment of doubt. An underground club for defensive magic didn't exactly fit into the extracurricular column of her resume. The gravity of what she had just agreed to hit her like a ton of bricks. She could very well be expelled for something like this. Not to mention, if her father found out... Panic bubbled up her throat, threatening to consume her. </p><p>Andrea took several large breaths, willing the icy air to ground her. She shoved her doubt deep down inside her. It was too late for second thoughts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. first meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"UM, hi, everyone," Harry started. "Welcome to the first meeting of, um, well, we don't have a name yet, so, just welcome to our first meeting." </p><p>Andrea pursed her lips, suppressing a sigh. She was rapidly learning that although the Golden Trio had no problem saving Hogwarts four times over, none of them were particularly skilled at public speaking. They were laughably bad at it, actually. </p><p>"And, um, thank you to Neville for finding the room," Harry continued, gesturing at the tall brunette Gryffindor, who grinned proudly. </p><p>"Also, Andrea has agreed to teach with me, so that's brilliant—" </p><p>The same annoying Hufflepuff boy from the Hog's Head spoke up. </p><p>"Isn't her father a Death Eater?" he asked accusingly. "Why should we trust her to teach us anything?" </p><p>There were a few murmurs of assent in the crowd. </p><p>"Are you daft?" Lyssa snapped. "You should feel lucky to have Andrea as a teacher." </p><p>Andrea sent Lyssa a sharp glance, urging her to stand down. She could fight her own battles. Her eyes swept across the crowd of thirty-some students. </p><p>"I founded the Women in Defense Club when I was 13 years old. I've been top of our class in Defense Against the Dark Arts for three out of the four years we've been at Hogwarts, and the year I wasn't first, I was second to Hermione Granger by less than half a point," Andrea said plainly. </p><p>She then fixed her gaze onto the Hufflepuff boy. "If you do not want to learn from me, that is your choice and your loss." </p><p>The Hufflepuff boy looked away, ears turning pink. </p><p>"What about your father? Is it true that he's a Death Eater?" someone piped up. </p><p>Andrea kept her expression neutral. "I am not my father," she said with finality. </p><p>The room hovered in strained silence for a moment, the tension palpable. </p><p>"Right, so, let's start," Harry said eventually, breaking the silence. </p><p>The rest of the meeting consisted of logistical rules (ex. never enter or leave the Room of Requirement in groups larger than three) and an introduction to basic disarming spells. The Hufflepuff boy, whose name Andrea learned was Zacharias, complained yet again, saying that he wasn't a first year and didn't need to learn basic disarming spells, but shut up promptly when the Weasley Twins threatened to sneak into the Hufflepuff common room and put Dungbombs in his bed.</p><p>Overall, it went about as well as Andrea had expected. </p><p>"I can't believe that Hufflepuff," exclaimed Lyssa on the way back to the Ravenclaw common room. "Who exactly does he think he is? Questioning Harry? Questioning you? I've seen his Defense Against the Dark Arts grades, by the way. They are not that great." </p><p>"I think it's good that someone is asking questions," Andrea commented. "That's how accountability works." </p><p>"How are you not more pissed off about this?" Lyssa asked. "He was a total ass to you in there."</p><p>Andrea shrugged. "It is what it is. Trust is not easily earned when you come from a family like mine." </p><p>"That's ridiculous," Lyssa argued. "When have you ever done anything to suggest that you were anything less than trustworthy?" </p><p>"I lost a library book once." </p><p>Lyssa let out an exasperated sigh. "That is not what I meant and you know it." </p><p>"It is what it is, Lyssa," Andrea repeated more firmly, getting annoyed.</p><p>"Is it so crazy of me to think that you shouldn't be judged because your father is—" </p><p>Andrea whirled around. "Because my father is what, Lyssa? Go ahead, say it, you clearly want to." </p><p>"Andy, I didn't mean—" </p><p>"You know what? This conversation is over," said Andrea, quickening her pace until she rounded the corridor, leaving her friend behind. </p><p>Andrea let out a frustrated sigh. It wasn't Lyssa's place to be upset. It wasn't her parents who were known Death Eaters. It wasn't her  who constantly had to prove that she wasn't evil. Andrea was the one entitled to anger and frustration, not Lyssa. Normally, Andrea appreciated Lyssa's passion—admired it, even—but for once, she wished Lyssa would just stay out of it. </p><p>She approached the staircase to the Ravenclaw common room, pausing at the first step. She could go up to her dormitory where her Transfiguration essay sat waiting to be written, or she could wander the halls aimlessly and blow off some steam. </p><p>One of those options was significantly more responsible than the other, but Andrea wasn't feeling very responsible today and her feet were moving away from the staircase before Andrea could fully register her choice.</p><p>Andrea had always enjoyed wandering the castle halls. Exploring Hogwarts was like a never-ending scavenger hunt—there was always a new room, new corridor, new painting, new something waiting to be discovered. Andrea doubted even the staff knew everything Hogwarts contained. </p><p>Well, maybe Dumbledore, Andrea amended. He seemed like he knew pretty much everything.</p><p>The hall came to an end, dividing into right and left passageways. The right would take her near the kitchens. Andrea's stomach growled at the thought. The left would take her to the Astronomy Tower staircase. Andrea weighed her options for a moment, before turning left. She could use the fresh air. </p><p>She climbed the spiral staircase at the end of the hall, once again cursing Hogwarts for its excessive use of stairs. Whoever designed the Hogwarts floor plan must have been really into cardio training. </p><p>Andrea's calves burned in protest by the time she reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. She eagerly leaned against one of the tower's wide columns to catch her breath. The evening air was crisp and Andrea instinctively pulled her robes closer to her body. </p><p>The sun was low in the sky, swathing the horizon in a medley of oranges and reds. Above the horizon, the tell-tale purple of the night sky bled across the sky, bright stars winking at Andrea mischievously. </p><p>Possessed by a feeling she didn't quite understand, Andrea pushed off from the column and walked over to sit on the edge of one of the tower's gaping windows, letting her legs dangle dangerously over the ledge. Her breath caught in her throat as she dared a glance at the courtyard thirty feet below.</p><p>Andrea was overwhelmed with a sense of control. She could choose to stay safely on the ledge or she could choose to plummet to the ground. Either way, it would be entirely her choice. She relished in the feeling, letting her head tip back to face the darkening sky. </p><p>She wasn't sure how long she spent like that, head upturned, legs dangling. It could have been a few seconds, a few minutes, a few hours. It was one of those timeless moments where the rest of the world faded away. </p><p>When the night air became too cold to withstand, Andrea reluctantly drew away from the ledge. It wouldn't do her any good if her limbs became numb and she actually did topple to her death. </p><p>Wouldn't that be a fun headline, Andrea mused. Selwyn Heiress Dies From Fall After Butt Becomes Numb. Not exactly the most dignified way to die. </p><p>Andrea took her time on the spiral staircase on her way down, lingering on each landing. She wasn't ready to return to reality. With each step, she could feel the weight on her shoulders grow heavier. </p><p>By the time she had returned to the common room, her short-lived sense of control had all but disappeared. </p><p>The eagle knocker on the common room door squawked out a riddle, which Andrea answered tiredly, and the door swung open to reveal the Ravenclaw common room. </p><p>The common room was mostly empty, with a few students in the couches near the front, and a few others dispersed among the many desks and book shelves. Andrea was relieved to see that Lyssa wasn't there. She wasn't ready to talk to her yet.</p><p>Andrea spied Marcel sitting in the corner with a book, a cup of what Andrea guessed was coffee resting in his hand. She headed over in that direction and slid into the chair across from him, pulling out a copy of Making the Inanimate Animate for some background reading on her Transfiguration essay. </p><p>"Noticed you were gone for a long time today," said Marcel without looking up from his book. </p><p>Andrea tensed. She hadn't told Marcel about Harry's underground defense class. It wasn't that she didn't trust him—she did, completely—but he hadn't been at the Hog's Head that day, and they had all sworn not to tell anyone. </p><p>"Prefect duties," Andrea recovered smoothly, turning the page in her book. </p><p>"For four hours?" Marcel challenged, looking up from his book this time. </p><p>Andrea met Marcel's stormy blue eyes, seeing the question there. Merlin, she wanted to tell him, but what came out of her mouth was, "It was a long shift." </p><p>He looked unconvinced, his mouth set in a firm line. For a moment, Andrea thought he was going to press for more details, but instead he returned his gaze to his book. </p><p>"Okay," he said, in a way that told Andrea that he definitely did not believe her, but wasn't going to push her if she didn't want to be pushed. </p><p>Andrea relaxed into the sofa, refocusing on the book in front of her. </p><p>Close call, she thought.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. you wound me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>TWO weeks past and things were going better than Andrea expected. Lyssa had apologized profusely that night, and Andrea had forgiven her. She couldn't stay mad at Lyssa even if she wanted to. </p><p>Harry's underground defense group had settled on naming themselves Dumbledore's Army, which Andrea thought was trite and predictable, but given that most of the group members were Gryffindors, what could you expect?</p><p>It was pleasantly surprisingly to find that Harry's skills and her own complimented each other well. Andrea supplemented Harry's lack of theoretical knowledge, and Harry supplemented Andrea's lack of real world experience. </p><p>Still, she was growing frustrated with being constantly sidelined as secondary to Harry. Sure, he had real life experience fighting against the Dark Arts, but Andrea was the one who had taught defense to students before. Andrea was the one who stayed up late, writing lesson plans and thinking up new ways to explain defensive techniques. To continuously be cast in the shadow of the Chosen One—especially when it was her doing the heavy lifting—was incredibly frustrating. Not to mention Zacharias Smith, who felt the need to undermine her authority at every turn.  </p><p>Not that Harry encouraged that attitude. If anything, he was more than gracious. Andrea speculated he was actually happy to share the burden of responsibility for once. </p><p>Unfortunately, all the work she was putting into Dumbledore's Army meant that she was falling behind on her schoolwork. She hadn't neglected anything important like Charms or Potions, but she had put off the Divinations readings for the past week. She really hoped Draco could pull their weight during class discussion tomorrow. </p><p>True to her word, Andrea had written Draco's herbology essays for the first month of school, all of which had gotten high marks. Likewise, Draco had upheld his end of the deal and had participated in all of the ridiculous tasks they were supposed to complete for Divination, although not without a fair amount of grumbling. </p><p>The two had fallen into a rhythm of meeting on Tuesdays after dinner, which worked out perfectly since—to Andrea's chagrin—they were often scheduled for prefect rounds together afterwards. </p><p>Andrea sighed, glancing at the calendar pinned to the dormitory wall. It was a Tuesday. </p><p>A glimpse at the darkening sky told Andrea she had missed dinner again. She must have lost track of time working on the Potions essay Snape assigned. Sometimes Andrea swore Snape chose the most obscure topics on purpose, just to watch his students struggle. </p><p>No matter, Andrea thought. She suspected she would be coerced into another trip to the kitchens by Vira and Jax later that night. She could eat then.</p><p>Andrea grabbed her books and made her way to the library, passing a few stray students on their way back from the Great Hall. She nodded at Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw chaser in Dumbledore's Army, who waved back shyly. Andrea and Cho had never been particularly close, but Andrea couldn't help but feel bad for Cho after Diggory's death. In the weeks after, it wasn't uncommon to hear Cho's quiet sobs through the thin walls of the Ravenclaw dormitories. A couple of the older students had complained about it, but Andrea couldn't bring herself to feel anything but pity. She had never fallen in love (and never planned to, mind you) and she couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with. </p><p>Pulling open one of the library's massive wooden double doors, Andrea slipped inside, spotting a flash of white-blonde hair between the rows of books. </p><p>She made her way to the table where Draco sat, his arms splayed across several chairs and his eyes lazily scanning the room. He grinned when he saw her. </p><p>"Careful there, you don't want to get too close to me. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six says girls and boys cannot come within 6 inches of each other," he warned, eyes glinting.</p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes. "As if I'd ever want to get close to you," she retorted. </p><p>Draco's grin widened, unfazed.  </p><p>"Did you do the readings?" Andrea asked, pulling out her Divination book and getting straight to the point. </p><p>Draco raised his eyebrows. "Did you?" </p><p>Andrea reached for a quill in her bag. "No, actually. I was busy completing other homework." </p><p>Draco let out an exaggerated gasp. "The Andrea Selwyn didn't do her homework. The world has stopped spinning." </p><p>Andrea flicked her eyes up, pinning the blonde Slytherin with an imperious glare. "Did you do the readings or not?" </p><p>"Normally, I wouldn't have, but Pansy decided it would be a good idea to perform the Divination readings live last night in the Slytherin common room." </p><p>At Andrea's perplexed expression, Draco added, "Pansy wants to be an actress. It's her new ambition of the month." </p><p>Pansy was certainly dramatic enough to pull off being an actress, Andrea thought. </p><p>"As long as you know what happened in the assigned chapters, I couldn't care less how you learned it," Andrea replied.</p><p>"I wouldn't worry about how well I remember the information," Draco said flatly. "I don't think I can unhear Pansy singing the seven steps to reading a crystal ball."</p><p>"Songs can serve as powerful mnemonics and increase retention by almost three times as much as other methods," Andrea said, reciting a passage she read a few years ago. </p><p>Draco snorted. "Your Ravenclaw is showing." </p><p>"Wasn't it you who said I was always meant to be sorted into Slytherin?" Andrea countered, flipping through her Divination book to find the right page. </p><p>"I've been known to be wrong before," Draco said, shrugging. </p><p>"That's the first honest thing I've heard you say." </p><p>"You wound me, Andrea." </p><p>"Good."</p><p>For a moment, the two were locked in a stare, but Draco, as he always did, looked away first. </p><p>They spent the better part of an hour studying and taking notes on the provided parchment (apparently, only certain parchment could be used for Divination purposes and it had to be blessed by a specific breed of centaur). As usual, Draco had no shortage of commentary, which annoyed Andrea to no end. At one point, she seriously considered putting a Silencing charm on him, but decided against it for the sake of her disciplinary record. She was already taking a big enough risk with Dumbledore's Army. </p><p>As the library clock ticked towards eight o'clock, the words in Andrea's Divination textbook began to swim and blur, a sign that Andrea desperately needed sleep. Andrea tried to think back to the last time she got a full night of sleep and was struck when she realized she couldn't remember. Sleep had never been Andrea's strong suit, but she was usually responsible enough to get at least eight hours every once and awhile. She resolved to finish extra homework that night so she could sleep the next day.</p><p>"It's eight o'clock. Time for prefect rounds," Draco announced, dramatically shutting his Divination textbook and pushing it aside. "If I read one more sentence about how the third line on my palm determines the hobby I'll have when I'm old and wrinkled, my eyes might actually fall out." </p><p>Andrea tucked her quill and parchment into her robes, brushing off the desk and blotting a spot of ink that had splattered onto the wood . "Do we have rounds together tonight?"</p><p>"Looking forward to spending more time with me?" he asked, smirking. </p><p>"Just trying to figure out how much longer I have to endure your presence."</p><p>"One of these days you'll admit that you are completely and irrevocably in love with me." </p><p>"I highly doubt that," Andrea dismissed, pulling her books to her chest. "So, rounds?" </p><p>"It's your lucky day," he said, grinning. "Umbridge posted the schedule earlier today and both of us are scheduled to patrol the west wing from eight to nine." </p><p>Andrea rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache form behind her eyes. </p><p>"You have a twisted idea of luck." </p><p>"You know, there are plenty of girls who would kill to get me alone for three hours." </p><p>"The only reason a girl would want to get you alone is so that they can turn you into a ferret. I've heard that form suits you," Andrea replied coolly. </p><p>Draco's expression soured at the reference to when Professor Moody transfigured him as a punishment last year. </p><p>"Don't make jokes about that. Do you know how emotionally scarring it was to see inside Crabbe's pants?" He shuddered at the thought. </p><p>Andrea stifled her amusement as they turned into the corridor of Dumbledore's office. The engraved griffin statue that signified the entrance stood proud in its stone casing. </p><p>The password to the office changed each hour, and prefects were only given the password for the hour of their rounds. If they showed up any time other than their assigned check-in and check-out times, their password wouldn't work and they'd receive a demerit for missing their times. </p><p>Stepping forward, she declared "Strawberry Taffy." </p><p>The stone platform of the statue began to tremble and separate, forming steep stairs as the phoenix statue rotated upwards. Once the stone settled, Andrea stepped onto the stairs, Draco trailing behind her. </p><p>Their steps echoed on the stone walls, making the narrow space feel even smaller. Andrea was relieved when she reached the last stair. Small spaces stressed her out. </p><p>Dumbledore sat at his desk, the long grey hair of his beard fastened together in his characteristic beaded rope. He glanced up at the two prefects as they entered. </p><p>"Hello, Ms. Selwyn and Mr. Malfoy," he said kindly. "Here to check in before rounds, I assume." </p><p>"Yes, sir," Andrea responded politely. </p><p>"Go ahead and sign your name on the forms. Feel free to take a candy before you go," he said, gesturing at the sign-in parchment fastened to the wall. </p><p>"Thank you, Professor," Andrea said, pulling out a quill to sign the form, handing it to Draco when she was finished. </p><p>Once both of them had signed the form, they made to exit the office. </p><p>"Ms. Selwyn?" Dumbledore called, surprising Andrea. </p><p>"Yes, sir?" </p><p>"Do get some sleep. If you're struggling, please visit Madam Pomfrey. She's an artist with a sleeping draught." </p><p>Andrea's eyes widened. Was it that obvious?</p><p>"Thank you, sir," she managed to get out. </p><p>"That's all. Have a good night," he said, bidding the two prefects farewell. </p><p>Andrea could feel Draco's eyes on her as they returned to the corridor outside of Dumbledore's office. </p><p>"You're having trouble sleeping?" he asked softly. </p><p>"Not really," Andrea shrugged him off.</p><p>Andrea glanced over at Draco and was startled to see genuine worry on his angular features.</p><p>"I'm fine, Draco. Really," she reassured. </p><p>Draco looked unconvinced. </p><p>"If I am losing sleep, it's probably because I'm dreading having to see you," Andrea said, hoping to bait him.</p><p>"Oh, so you admit that you stay up late thinking about me?" he said, falling back into their usual banter. </p><p>Andrea was glad. She couldn't stand the look of pity in his eyes. </p><p>She didn't need pity from anyone. Certainly not from Draco Malfoy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. a natural leader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'LL never get this," complained Marietta Edgecombe, flicking her wand aggressively in the air. </p><p>"Yes, you will. Try again." </p><p>She gripped her wand tightly, knuckles turning white, and tried again. "Cave inimicum." </p><p>Marietta swore when nothing happened.</p><p>"Might as well be a twig from the Forbidden Forest," Marietta muttered angrily at the wand in her hand. </p><p>"The key is to keep your grip loose. Try again, and hold your wand like it's a feather," Andrea advised, demonstrating with her own wand. </p><p>Marietta let a deep breath out before raising her wand again, mimicking Andrea. "Cave inimicum." </p><p>Marietta gasped as a translucent wall of blue light flowed from her wand.</p><p>Andrea nodded in approval. "Very good. Now, use that energy to surround yourself." </p><p>Marietta's success had drawn the interest of the other members of the DA, who watched the fourth year Ravenclaw spin carefully in a circle. Marietta's eyes clung to her wand, as if she couldn't believe she had actually conjured the spell. The wall of light followed Marietta's wand until the light completely encircled her.</p><p>A moment later, the light faded, and Marietta was invisible. </p><p>"Merlin's beard," someone breathed from the back of the room. </p><p>"Um...guys?" Marietta's voice wavered. "Why is everyone looking at me weird?" </p><p>"Technically, no one's looking at  you," Ron remarked, eliciting an eye roll from Andrea. </p><p>"You did it, Marietta. We can't see you. You're invisible," Andrea said proudly. </p><p>"I'm invisible?" Marietta repeated back, unsurely.</p><p>"Wicked," Fred and George said simultaneously. </p><p>Andrea turned to the rest of the DA members. "Cave inimicum is one of the most useful spells you can use to conceal yourself from a dark wizard. Remember: the number one rule of Defense Against The Dark Arts is to avoid a wand fight where you can." </p><p>"Andrea?" Marietta called hesitantly, "How do I... How do I un-invisible myself?"</p><p>"That's easy. Just step outside of the boundary and the spell will fall," Andrea instructed. </p><p>Marietta's navy blue shoe reappeared first, then the criss-cross plaid of her skirt and finally her grey jumper and curly red hair. Her freckled cheeks glowed red at the attention from the rest of the DA. </p><p>"That was excellent, Marietta," Harry praised, stepping out from the crowd. "Hopefully, you will all be able to do the same tomorrow. Unfortunately, our time is up for today." </p><p>The crowd dispersed, whispering to each other about the new spells they learned. Andrea hoped today would inspire them to do research of their own. Sometimes, it felt like there was too much to teach and not enough time to teach it. </p><p>Andrea leaned against the wall, letting the cool stone ground her. She still hadn't been able to get a full night of sleep. Every night came with its own set of homework assignments, Prefect reports, Quidditch plays and DA lesson plans, and every night she told herself that she'd sleep tomorrow. It was starting to seem like tomorrow would never come. </p><p>Harry joined her against the wall, tilting his head back. His unruly black hair flopped against his forehead, unwilling to lay flat. He seemed on edge, Andrea thought. Beneath his wire frame glasses, dark circles rimmed his eyes like twin shadows. His posture slumped as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. </p><p>"Are you doing alright, Harry?" asked Andrea. </p><p>He blinked, looking away for a second. Hesitantly, he responded, "Yeah, I think so." </p><p>"You think so?"</p><p>Harry sighed bitterly. "Honestly, Andrea? I'm getting tired of people asking if I'm doing alright." </p><p>"Fair enough," Andrea replied. She wasn't going to force him to open up if he didn't want to. </p><p>A comfortable silence fell over the two, both students staring forward absent-mindedly, caught up in their own worlds. </p><p>Andrea's thoughts drifted to what assignments she had to complete tonight. Her mind whirred, mentally creating a to-do list. First, she would finish revising her Charms essay, then she had Prefect rounds, and then she could start outlining her Transfiguration essay and round out the night with a few hours of studying for the Potions quiz next week. It was a full night, but not completely unmanageable. If she could stave off the fatigue, maybe she could fit in an hour or two of Quidditch strategy. Ravenclaw's first Quidditch match was next week, and Andrea wanted to win. She wondered if her father would come to see her play if Ravenclaw made it to the Quidditch Cup championship match. </p><p>Harry broke the silence, pulling Andrea out of her thoughts. "You were really good at teaching today." </p><p>"Am I not really good other days?" Andrea teased, lips quirking into her characteristic half-smile. </p><p>"No, no, you are." Harry paused, looking for the right words. "It's just, well, you were so patient with Marietta today. You really are a natural at this." </p><p>"At what? Telling people what to do? That doesn't take much talent," said Andrea dismissively. </p><p>Harry shook his head. "You don't just tell people what to do, Andrea. You explain how to do it and you explain it really well. If you ever decide that being an auror isn't for you, you should consider being a teacher." </p><p>Andrea's lips twitched in amusement. "Trying to push me out of the competition?" </p><p>"No, not at all," he said quickly. "I'm just saying, leadership looks good on you." </p><p>"So, you think I look good?" Andrea countered, eyebrows raised. </p><p>"No, I didn't mean— I was just trying to say— " floundered Harry, his cheeks rapidly turning pink.</p><p>"I'm messing with you, Harry," Andrea interjected, sending him a smile to make sure he knew she was kidding. </p><p>"Oh." </p><p>"And, thank you, but I'm not the leader here. You are," Andrea added more seriously.</p><p>Harry shook his head. "I'm a leader because I have to be. You're a leader because that's just who you are." </p><p>"That's very nice of you to say," Andrea said, unsure of how to respond. </p><p>"It's not nice, really. It's just the truth," he said, pushing off from the wall. "I'm heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Can I walk you there?" </p><p>"Thanks, but I was actually planning on finishing that Charms essay during dinner," Andrea declined. </p><p>Harry frowned. "Shouldn't you eat something?" </p><p>Andrea waved him off. "I had a big lunch and Lyssa bought a ridiculous amount of snacks from Hogsmeade last week, so I'm all set." </p><p>He seemed unconvinced, but thankfully didn't press the issue. </p><p>Andrea lingered in the Room of Requirement after Harry left, savoring the feeling of being alone. Here in the Room of Requirement, there was no one to perform for; no one to impress or compete with. The space was entirely hers. She didn't have to give up any pieces of herself. Andrea selfishly wanted to stay in the isolated bubble of the Room of Requirement forever. </p><p>Leaning her head against the wall, Andrea let her eyes flutter close for a moment, allowing her body to greedily take in a few seconds of rest. The cold stone of the wall began to feel soft beneath her head, almost like a pillow . . . </p><p>No! Andrea's eyes snapped open and she pushed away from the wall, blinking rapidly. A nap was not part of the plan today. Maybe tomorrow. </p><p>You said that yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, a nagging voice said in the back of her head. </p><p>Andrea ignored the voice and pulled her wand out, flicking it in a zig-zag manner. The Alertness charm spread through Andrea quickly, zipping from muscle to muscle, nerve to nerve, until Andrea was fully awake and attentive. Albeit a temporary fix, the Alertness charm was powerful, and Andrea thanked Merlin again for its effectiveness. </p><p>Glancing at the clock, Andrea cursed herself for wasting so much time, quickly exiting the Room of Requirement to make the trek across the castle to the Ravenclaw common room. That Charms essay wasn't going to edit itself. </p><p>As Andrea walked through the corridors, she found herself thinking about Quidditch again. More specifically, how her dad felt about her playing Quidditch. He wasn't exactly the most supportive of Andrea's Quidditch career at Hogwarts. As Draco had pointed out at the beginning of the school year, pureblood families were far from proponents of gender equality in any sphere. Quidditch was no exception. Andrea could still remember the letter her father sent her when she asked for a broom for Quidditch tryouts during her second year. </p><p>My dearest daughter Andrea, </p><p>I understand you are interested in playing Quidditch and in need of a broom. As such, I feel compelled to remind you of your status as a lady of the House of Selwyn. I am not sure it is appropriate for a woman of your standing to engage in such pursuits. For this reason, I cannot endorse your endeavor to join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team by purchasing a broom. You are welcome to find a broom elsewhere. </p><p>Sincerely, </p><p>Your loving father </p><p>Short and to the point, the way Aster Selwyn always was. Andrea scoffed at the memory.</p><p>At least he didn't outright forbid Andrea from playing the sport, as pureblood parents often did with their daughters. She'd been able to borrow a school broom from Madam Hooch and tried out for the team against her father's judgment. The borrowed broom had been unbearably slow, but Ravenclaw's team was in a slump that year and Andrea made it on the team anyway. </p><p>Despite her slow start, Andrea was able to save up for her own Comet Two Sixty. She still remembered her first win on that broom. It was third year, Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuff Chasers that year were scarily good, but Andrea had been on fire that night. Ravenclaw won by over two hundred points. When the early morning practices and late night strategy sessions didn't feel worth it, Andrea reminded herself of how good that night felt; how good it felt to win. If she closed her eyes and focused hard enough, she could still hear the Ravenclaw stands chanting her name. </p><p>In her three years on the team, her father had never came to watch her play. Logically, Andrea knew that was a pretty good indicator that he wasn't going to come to any of her matches this year either. Still, a small part of Andrea held out hope that maybe, if Ravenclaw made the Quidditch Cup Championship match, he would show up. </p><p>Not that it mattered, Andrea reasoned. She didn't need her father in the stands to do well. The past three years proved that. </p><p>Andrea approached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, and the eagle-shaped bronze knocker sensed her presence. </p><p>"What is always in front of you but can't be seen?" the knocker squawked. </p><p>Too easy, Andrea thought. </p><p>"The future." </p><p>The wooden door swung open at her answer, revealing the familiar arched windows of the common room. Night had fallen and the common room was bathed in the faint glow of hundreds of candles. Most of Andrea's fellow Ravenclaws were still in the Great Hall for dinner, but a few students laid scattered throughout the common room. </p><p>Andrea bypassed the common room, opting for her dormitory instead. Sitting at her desk, she pulled out her draft of the Charms essay and a cartridge of red ink to annotate. </p><p>Only thirty minutes until Prefect rounds. Andrea had forgotten to check and see who her partner was for tonight, and she hoped it wasn't Draco. She really didn't feel like dealing with him tonight. </p><p>Refocusing on the essay in front of her, Andrea began marking her edits in the margins. She was halfway done when her dormitory door opened. </p><p>Andrea looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Lyssa haphazardly balancing two very full plates of food.</p><p>"Little help here?" she asked expectantly, the plates wobbling precariously in her hands. </p><p>Andrea jumped out of her chair, quickly grabbing one of the plates from her right hand. </p><p>"Merlin's beard, Lyssa! Why did you bring back so much food?" asked Andrea, depositing the plate on her desk and motioning for Lyssa to do the same. </p><p>Lyssa put one hand in the air. "First, you should eat before the food gets cold. I recommend you start with the potatoes, they are stupidly good tonight." </p><p>Andrea gave her an astounded look. "Lyssa, I can't possibly eat all of this." </p><p>Lyssa rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not going to enforce a clean plate policy, but you really should eat something." </p><p>Andrea shrugged. At least it was a better dinner than the package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor beans she had been eyeing. </p><p>When Andrea had eaten sufficiently, she turned to Lyssa, who had flopped onto her bed and was playing idly with a hair tie on her wrist. </p><p>"Are you going to tell me now why you decided to bring half of the Great Hall's food into our dormitory?" </p><p>"Well, I'd love to take credit for thinking of you and bringing dinner because I'm such a good best friend and all," Lyssa started, an excited glint in her eye. "But, it was actually at behest of a certain Gryffindor Boy Who Lived." </p><p>"Really? Harry sent it?" Andrea asked, climbing onto the bed to lay beside Lyssa. </p><p>"Yep. That boy totally has a thing for you." </p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes. "He does not." </p><p>"He does too. He walked right over to the Ravenclaw table and basically ordered me to take this food to you, all because you mentioned you were skipping dinner. People don't do that just because." </p><p>Andrea gave her best friend a pointed look. "Have you not seen the way he looks at Cho Chang?" </p><p>"He can have crushes on multiple people. He's the Chosen One, for Merlin's sake," Lyssa argued.  </p><p>Andrea paused. She hadn't picked up on anything more than platonic during their DA meetings. Although, to be fair, it wasn't like she had a lot of experience in the flirting department. It was definitely possible that he had been flirting with her this whole time and she just didn't notice. </p><p>Fuck, she thought.</p><p>"I really hope he doesn't like me like that," she finally said to Lyssa. "I've got way too much on my plate to deal with a boy." </p><p>"I think he'd be good for you," Lyssa declared, shifting onto her side to face Andrea. </p><p>Andrea looked at Lyssa, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, really? Just yesterday, you were convinced I should be with Draco Malfoy." </p><p>"Who says you can't have both?" Lyssa said, waggling her eyebrows mischievously. </p><p>Andrea hit Lyssa with a pillow and she laughed. </p><p>"You're terrible," insulted Andrea, her smile betraying her words. </p><p>"I'm serious, though," Lyssa said, her expression sobering. "I think it would be good for you to have someone." </p><p>Andrea furrowed her brow and reached for Lyssa's hand. "Don't I have you?" </p><p>"Of course you do," Lyssa said quickly, interlocking her fingers with Andrea's. "But, that's not what I mean. I mean someone who you're romantically interested in." </p><p>Andrea resisted the urge to roll her eyes. </p><p>"Lyssa, why on earth would I want to complicate my life right now with a romantic relationship?" </p><p>"Um, I don't know, for love? Support? Affection?" Lyssa listed off, over-enunciating the words as if Andrea was a toddler. </p><p>"Sounds dreadful." </p><p>Lyssa sighed. "Andy." </p><p>"It does!" Andrea defended. "Why would I willingly put myself in a position to rely on someone else for love?" </p><p>"You rely on me for love," Lyssa pointed out. </p><p>"That's different," responded Andrea immediately. </p><p>Lyssa was silent for a moment. </p><p>"Look, I'm not saying that you should be running around buying chocolates and declaring your love from the Astronomy Tower, but maybe you should consider going on a few dates," she eventually said. "With Harry or with someone else." </p><p>Andrea closed her eyes. This conversation was ridiculous. Dating was the last thing on her mind. Between studying for OWLs, quidditch, prefect duties and teaching the DA, Andrea really didn't have the time nor the interest to go prancing off to Hogsmeade to make awkward small talk with boys she was barely interested in. But, Lyssa was stubborn and Andrea knew she wouldn't stop pestering her, so what came out of her mouth was "Sure, whatever." </p><p>Lyssa's eyes sparkled. "So, you'll say yes if Harry asks you out?" </p><p>"Maybe."</p><p>She grinned. "That's not a no."</p><p>Andrea extricated her hand from Lyssa's and pushed off from the bed. </p><p>"I have prefect rounds. I'll see you after, yeah?"</p><p>Lyssa nodded, smiling widely. "I'll be here, planning your wedding. Andrea Potter has a pretty nice to ring to it." </p><p>Andrea shook her head at Lyssa, pinning her prefect badge to her robes. "You're ridiculous. I'll be back around nine." </p><p>"See you then, Andrea Potter," Lyssa called as Andrea exited the dormitory.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. amethyst pixie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>ANDREA was out of breath by the time she made it to Dumbledore's office for check-in. The staircase she normally took had very rudely decided to shift to the wrong corridor, forcing her to take the long way. She'd had to jog to make up the time. </p><p>To make matters worse, Draco was leaning against the wall, waiting. She resisted the urge to punch the wall. Or him. She wasn't sure which was more appealing. </p><p>"Running late?" he tutted. "Shameful." </p><p>"Actually," she retorted, looking up at the clock. "I'm right on time."</p><p>"Barely." </p><p>"Are we paired for rounds tonight?" Andrea asked, her voice tight.</p><p>"Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be gracing you with my company." </p><p>The universe could be cruel sometimes. </p><p>"Let's get this over with," she said, stepping past him to announce the password to the stone griffin. </p><p>"Amethyst Pixie." </p><p>Stone against stone rasped, the staircase rising from the floor like a phoenix from ashes. </p><p>Andrea climbed the stairs quickly, not checking to see if Draco followed behind her. She half hoped he didn't. </p><p>Dumbledore stood on the top landing of his office, a rather large book in his hands. He nodded at the two students in greeting and returned his attention to his reading. Andrea was glad. Another comment on her sleep schedule would have been too embarrassing. </p><p>She walked to the sign-in parchment, inked her name, and stepped aside to wait for Draco. </p><p>Fawkes chirped weakly from his aviary on Dumbledore's desk. He looked sickly, his feathers thin and greying, his normally sharp black eyes dull. Andrea averted her gaze. It seemed wrong to look at him like that. </p><p>As soon as Draco finished the last letter of his name, Andrea moved to the staircase, eager to take her leave of the dying bird. </p><p>She turned left at the end of the staircase, striding a few steps ahead to distance herself from Draco.</p><p>"Where do you think you're going?" Draco called from behind her. </p><p>"We're patrolling the dungeons tonight," said Andrea, not pausing to turn around. "This is the way to the dungeons." </p><p>"Not the best way," he countered. Andrea could feel the smirk in his voice. </p><p>She pinched the bridge of her nose and turned to face him. </p><p>"Okay, Draco. What is the best way?" she asked tiredly. </p><p>He caught up to her, a smug look on his face. </p><p>"If you had been sorted into Slytherin, you would know." </p><p>Andrea crossed her arms. "Are you going to tell me or not? Because, if not, this conversation is a waste of my time." </p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. "You're all work and no play." </p><p>Andrea stared up at him, unruffled. </p><p>"It's not really something I can tell you. It's something I have to show you," he said cryptically. </p><p>"If this is some sort of prank, I will do much worse than transfigure you into a ferret," Andrea threatened icily. </p><p>"Please, I'm not a first year." </p><p>"Then why do you act like one?" Andrea returned quickly. </p><p>"Maybe I won't show you. Since you seem so set on insulting me," Draco said, crossing his arms. </p><p>Andrea shrugged. "Makes no difference to me," she said, turning on her heel to take the left corridor. She did not have the energy or the patience for this. </p><p>"Wait," Draco said, grabbing her wrist. "Merlin, you're ridiculous. It's this way," he said, tugging her the other way down the corridor. </p><p>"Are all Ravenclaws as impatient as you?" </p><p>"Only when we're around self-obsessed Slytherins." </p><p>"That hurts, Andrea, it really does." </p><p>Draco led Andrea through several corridors, always taking the left passage. Under normal settings, they would have made several circles by now, but this was Hogwarts and Hogwarts was far from normal. </p><p>They stopped in front of a portrait with a rather ornate golden frame. An older man, likely in his fifties, sat on a cushioned wooden chair, reading a book. He had greying blonde hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck, and a hooked mustache. His clothes were aristocratic—a jacquard emerald green and silver knee-length coat with a vest and knee breeches to match. His neck was covered with the frilly high neck undershirt and black neck tie characteristic of 18th century English fashion.</p><p>Draco cleared his throat, attracting the man's attention. </p><p>"Mr. Malfoy, always a pleasure to see you," he greeted warmly, placing his book on the table beside him.</p><p>"Likewise, Lord Turner," Draco answered, nodding politely. </p><p>"Who is the lovely lady you are holding hands with?"</p><p>Draco's eyes snapped down to their hands, as if just realizing that his hand still encircled her slender wrist. He dropped her arm quickly as if the contact suddenly burned. Her skin missed his warmth, puckering almost immediately with goosebumps.</p><p>"This is Andrea Selwyn," Draco introduced, ignoring Andrea's curious gaze.</p><p>"Selwyn, you say? Any relation to Aster Selwyn?" Lord Turner asked with interest. </p><p>Andrea tried not to frown. "He's my father." </p><p>"Ah, you are very lucky! He is a good, strong man," said Lord Turner with an approving smile. </p><p>Andrea didn't think good was the right adjective to describe her father, but she didn't correct him. </p><p>He turned back to Draco. "Here for my staircase, I presume?"</p><p>"Yes," Draco confirmed. </p><p>"For a Malfoy and a Selwyn, I am more than happy to oblige," he declared cheerfully. His portrait swung open, revealing a stone staircase behind. The staircase was dark, lit only by a few randomly dispersed fire-lit sconces, and narrow enough that only one person could enter at a time. It looked far from welcoming. </p><p>Draco gestured towards the steps. "Ladies first." </p><p>Andrea raised her eyebrows. "I don't think so. You can go first." </p><p>"You don't trust me?" </p><p>"Not even a little bit." </p><p>He laughed a little, a low rumbling sound, and ducked into the staircase. </p><p>It took Andrea a moment to follow. Of all the possible types of secret passageways, it just had to be a small space. </p><p>Thankfully, the staircase was shorter than it looked and they were at the bottom of the steps within a few minutes. </p><p>The steps spilled out into an equally poorly lit corridor, shadows moving on the walls in a haunting dance. As soon as Andrea's foot left the last step, the staircase shuddered and groaned, smoothing itself over until all that remained was solid concrete wall. </p><p>"That was anticlimactic," Andrea commented, brushing off bits of dust from her robes. </p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. "I promised you fast, not exciting." </p><p>"Where are we exactly?" </p><p>"It's a corridor off the dungeons. No one uses it except for Slytherins." </p><p>The pair made their way out of the dark hall and into the main dungeons for patrol. The air was damp and smelled faintly of rotten eggs. Andrea shivered. It was colder on this level of the castle. She mentally thanked the Sorting Hat for not putting her in Slytherin. Having to live down here would be miserable. </p><p>At least tonight's patrol would be uneventful, Andrea thought. The school hadn't used the dungeons for years, with the exception of the potions classroom near the main staircase, and the only students around would be Slytherins returning to their common room. </p><p>For the first few minutes, it seemed that patrol would be just that: mercifully uneventful. That was before Andrea realized what else the dungeons were used for.</p><p>When they found the first couple, Andrea had gasped and shielded her eyes and Draco had laughed mockingly at her discomfort. By the fifth couple, Andrea had stopped caring, desensitized to the overzealous displays of affection by her fellow students. </p><p>"Is this really a thing people do? Sneak down to the dungeons to snog?" Andrea asked incredulously after breaking up a couple. </p><p>"Why are you asking? Need a new place to get hot and heavy with your boy toy?" Draco quipped.</p><p>"My boy toy?" </p><p>"Laurent," he clarified. </p><p>"Marcel? We're just friends," Andrea said dismissively. </p><p>"That's what they all say." </p><p>Andrea scoffed. "Contrary to popular belief, boys and girls can actually be friends with each other without wanting to jump each other's bones." </p><p>"Sure." He shrugged. "But have you?" </p><p>"Have I what?" Andrea asked irritably. </p><p>"Jumped his bones?"</p><p>"Ew, no," she answered automatically. </p><p>"Really? Not even once?" </p><p>"No," she said more forcibly. </p><p>"Have you jumped anyone's bones?" Draco pressed, clearly entertained by Andrea's discomfort. </p><p>"I am not answering that." </p><p>"Have you even been on a date?" he asked, a slow grin growing on his ridiculously smug face. </p><p>"I am not answering that either." </p><p>"You haven't, have you?" </p><p>This conversation had gotten very out of hand very fast. Andrea fought the blush warming her cheeks. </p><p>"I'm willing to bet you've never even been kissed." </p><p>First Lyssa, now Draco. Andrea was starting to think there was a sign on her forehead that said "ask Andrea about her love life". </p><p>"Some people have better things to do than pursuing romantic relationships," she recovered, sarcasm dripping from her voice. </p><p>"Like what? Studying? Prefect duties?" Draco mocked, rolling his eyes. "You're such a Ravenclaw. You should try loosening up." </p><p>"Sorry, I don't remember asking for your advice." </p><p>"You didn't. But I'm a generous guy, so I gave it to you anyway." </p><p>"Next time, feel free to keep it to yourself," Andrea said, grimacing and rubbing her temples. The Alertness charm she cast earlier was wearing off and the tell-tale aura of a headache was taking hold behind her eyes. She pulled her wand from her robes, wordlessly casting another one. </p><p>Draco glanced at Andrea's wand movement. "An Alertness charm? I didn't realize I was putting you to sleep." </p><p>Andrea ignored him, letting the charm wash over her, relishing in the burst of energy and clarity that left her skin tingling.  </p><p>"You know, you're not really supposed to use Alertness charms unless its an emergency," Draco commented. "I thought you would know that, being such a know-it-all." </p><p>Andrea continued to ignore him. He was technically right—the books did warn about the potential side-effect of prolonged use of Alertness charms—but she'd been using the charms for weeks now without any issue. The books weren't always right. </p><p>"Andrea... " he started, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. "Are you using them because you're still having trouble sleeping?"</p><p>A streak of anger at Dumbledore zipped through her like a bolt of lightning. It hadn't been his place to talk about her personal problems in front of someone else. If he hadn't said anything, she wouldn't be here, being pitied by a boy she barely even liked. </p><p>"Stay out of it, Draco," she said, with an edge to her voice that wasn't there before. </p><p>"But, I — </p><p>Andrea fixed him with a glare, her eyes challenging him to go on, promising to hurt him if he did. </p><p>The words died on his tongue, a resigned look flashing in his eyes. </p><p>"Patrol is over," she announced, her voice grown cold. "I'll see you in class tomorrow." </p><p>Andrea left Draco in the dungeons without a second glance.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. avem volantes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>TW: mentions of abuse </p><p>DMLE = Department of Magical Law Enforcement</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>ANDREA'S thoughts had been frenzied on the walk back to the Ravenclaw dormitories. The effects of the Alertness charm were still zipping through her veins, but instead of bringing its usual comfort, the charm only served to amplify the thoughts bouncing painfully in her head, clarifying them in a way that made them feel more real, more tangible. </p><p>Dumbledore's embarrassing comments. Draco's complete lack of boundaries. Harry's potential crush. The never-ending to-do list of Prefect reports, essays, readings, Quidditch practices. Andrea felt like she was being pushed to the precipice, playing a sick game of 'how much can Andrea handle'. </p><p>Look at you, a cold voice hissed in her head. Throwing a pity party. How pathetic. </p><p>Andrea scoffed. The voice was right, of course. Her problems were barely even problems. Nothing she couldn't handle. </p><p>She combed a hand through her thick black hair, blinking forcefully as she pushed the negative thoughts from her brain. Feeling bad for herself was a waste of energy. </p><p>At the Ravenclaw entrance, she rattled off the answer to the entry riddle and walked to her dormitory with a renewed sense of purpose. She was going to finish editing the Charms essay, outline the Transfiguration essay, study for the Potions quiz, work on some Quidditch strategy and be in bed by at least 2am. Five reasonable goals. </p><p>Lyssa was waiting in their dormitory, eager to pick up where they left off with their conversation about Harry. Andrea felt a twinge of guilt when she brushed her off to focus on her homework, but Lyssa understood. She always did. </p><p>They'd had a conversation beneath the willow tree one night in third year, when Lyssa had been angry that Andrea wasn't paying enough attention to her. </p><p>"You spend more time with your books than you do with me." Lyssa had said. "It makes me feel awful. Like I'm not as important to you as you are to me." </p><p>Andrea had told her a story. How she came home from first year, excited to show her father her grades. How her father had glanced at the report card and asked why she wasn't first. How he had burst the parchment into flames when she mentioned Hermione Granger. How he had held her hand over the flames until the skin peeled and puckered. How he'd done the same every year that she came second. </p><p>Lyssa didn't ask her to spend less time studying after that. </p><p>Objectively, Andrea knew that those lessons from her father were wrong—abusive, even—and she would be outraged to find out that someone else's parents were doing the same thing to them, but sometimes she felt almost... grateful for his lack of mercy. It motivated her to be better. To be the best version of herself. </p><p>She spent the rest of the night huddled over her desk, quill in hand, focused on completing her work. A few times she got up to pace or grab a book from the common room, each time eliciting a loud groan from Lyssa who was trying to sleep. </p><p>It was 3:00am by the time Andrea went to bed, an hour later than she had intended, but still pretty good by her standards. Her eyes drifted close the moment her head hit her pillow, and she fell into a dreamless sleep. </p><p>+++</p><p>Like clockwork, Andrea woke up at six o'clock the next morning for Quidditch practice. An Alertness charm and cup of tea later, she was on the pitch, barking out orders. They were days away from their first match and she pushed the team hard. </p><p>"Bradley, there's not even a Keeper defending the goal posts! How are you still missing them?"</p><p>"Cho, the snitch was hovering right in front of you for three whole minutes! Should I order you a pair of glasses?" </p><p>"Jason and Duncan, are you trying to hit the Bludger in any direction? Or are you just letting it fly wherever?" </p><p>By the time the practice was over, Andrea's voice was hoarse, her vocal cords rubbing together painfully. The Ravenclaw players flew down from the pitch at the sound of her whistle, looking positively exhausted. </p><p>Clearing her throat, Andrea started her end-of-practice pep talk. "Everyone did really good today—" </p><p>"Really?" Jason Samuels, one of the Beaters, interrupted rudely. </p><p>Duncan Inglebee, the other Beater, elbowed him immediately, sending him a warning glare.</p><p>Jason ignored his teammate, going on to say "Because all I heard was you yelling at us." </p><p>"I'm yelling, Jason, because I know that everyone on this team has the potential to be the best Quidditch players Ravenclaw has ever seen," Andrea said coolly. "If you want me to treat you as less than the Quidditch player that you are, or handle you with kid gloves, you are sorely mistaken." </p><p>Jason looked like he wasn't sure whether he should be grateful for the compliment or embarrassed that he was called out. </p><p>"As I was saying," Andrea continued, returning her gaze to rest of the group. "Everyone worked hard today and I'm seeing great progress. We're not quite where we need to be, but—as long as we keep up this kind of work—we will be." </p><p>A few of the Ravenclaws exchanged tired grins, looking pleased. Andrea was glad. They should be proud of themselves.</p><p>"Let's hit the showers and I'll see you bright and early tomorrow," Andrea said, dismissing the team with a wave. </p><p>The crowd had just started to disperse when Cho Chang's soft voice rang out. "Can we do the thing?" she asked, eyebrows raised knowingly. </p><p>A few of the other teammates chimed in. </p><p>"Yeah!" </p><p>"Come on, Andrea, let's do it!" </p><p>"We haven't done it yet this year!" </p><p>Maybe it was Cho's smile—a rare sight these days—or maybe it was the fifteen pairs of hopeful eyes staring at her, but Andrea couldn't bring herself to say no. She rolled her eyes dramatically, heaving a theatrical sigh. "I suppose we can," she said in mock defeat, a smile tugging at her lips.</p><p>"Wands in, Ravenclaw!"  </p><p> The team huddled into a circle, wands pointed towards the center.</p><p>"On my count," Andrea said, meeting her eyes with each person in the huddle. </p><p>"1...</p><p>2...</p><p>3!" </p><p>"Avem Volantes," sixteen voices declared in unison, blue light erupting from their wands, combining to form a massive blue eagle. The bird leapt into the sky, wings extending regally as it spun and climbed. It flew in a circle around the Quidditch pitch, the flap of its powerful wings making the teams' robes billow wildly behind them. Once it finished its lap of the pitch, the eagle soared into the sky and, with a snap, exploded into a firework of blue light. The team clapped and cheered even as the blue light dissipated in the glare of the morning sun. </p><p>Avem Volantes was a Ravenclaw Quidditch team tradition. No one, not even the rest of Ravenclaw house, was allowed to utter the incantation, and when Quidditch players graduated or left the team, they had to swear to never say it again. The tradition was one of Andrea's favorite parts of playing Quidditch for Ravenclaw. The spell was exclusive, and it stroked Andrea's ego to know she was one of a select few who was able to perform it.</p><p>When the last blue spark faded, she directed the team to the showers, trying and failing to stop the smile that stretched across her face. </p><p>Andrea spent extra time in the shower, letting the steam from the hot water release the tight muscles in her neck. </p><p>The team really had made good progress. She didn't want to jinx it, but she thought they had a more than reasonable shot at the Quidditch Cup this year. Especially if Cho improved her speed by a few seconds. Cho was already an excellent Seeker, but Harry and Draco were better, and Gryffindor and Slytherin were undoubtedly Ravenclaw's biggest competition. </p><p>Winning the Quidditch Cup would certainly earn her some points for the summer DMLE apprenticeship, Andrea thought. Without her Women in Defense club, her list of extracurricular activities was looking a little thin. It wasn't like she could include "co-teacher of secret defense society that calls themselves Dumbledore's Army" on her resume. That definitely wouldn't go over well with the Ministry, who were expressly anti-Dumbledore these days. </p><p>Andrea found the Ministry to be fairly hypocritical with their views on Dumbledore. Just a year ago, they were re-instating him for his eleventh year as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and now they were leading a media campaign against him. </p><p>She sighed, brushing the soap out of her hair. That was politics, she supposed. Politicians would rather change their tune to stay in power than address any real problem.</p><p>Andrea would have to play that game if she wanted to work in the auror department. It was the least appealing part of the job, and it had made her rethink her interests more than once. Charming others wasn't exactly her strong suit. </p><p>The shower squeaked when she finally turned off the water. She reached for a towel and quickly dressed in her robes, casting a charm to squeeze the excess water out of her hair. </p><p>She tapped once on her uniform to magically iron the wrinkles and prepared to leave the locker room, faltering for a second when she caught her reflection in the mirror. </p><p>Andrea knew she was pretty. Glossy black hair fell down her back in soft waves, complimenting her angular features. Her high cheekbones and slim, refined nose produced a flatteringly regal look, and her almond-shaped eyes were more gold than brown. </p><p>But every time she looked in the mirror, all she could see was her father. His characteristics stained her face like a brand, reminding her where she came from. Sometimes she would look at her reflection too quickly and her chest would tighten involuntarily, as if she was expecting him to crawl through the mirror and demand more of her. </p><p>It was a stupid, childish fear. Andrea was far too old to be scared of her own reflection. </p><p>She forced herself to stare back at the mirror, to scrutinize her features—his features. She memorized the slope of her nose, same as his, and the shape of her lips, same as his, and the color of her eyes, same as his. </p><p>Then she reminded herself of all the parts of her face that were different. Her skin tone, a shade darker from her mother. Her ears, pointed and elfish compared to her father's broad rounded lobes. The small amorphous birthmark beneath her left eye, which was hers and hers alone. </p><p>She nodded at the girl staring back at her, who returned her steely gaze. They seemed to come to an understanding, her and the girl in the mirror. She may be her father's daughter, but she was also her own person; she was her own entity beyond the Selwyn name. </p><p>Andrea tore her eyes away from the mirror, feeling accomplished even though all she had done was stare at a piece of glass, and gathered her things.</p><p>It was quiet when she arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast. There was only fifteen minutes until classes began, and most of the students had already left. Lyssa sat at the Ravenclaw table, waiting dutifully, and she jumped up when she spotted Andrea in the entry way. </p><p>"Finally! I've been waiting here for hours!" she exclaimed, dropping her head against Andrea's shoulder in exaggerated fatigue. </p><p>Andrea's lips twitched in amusement. "Hours?" </p><p>"Okay, well, maybe not hours. But for a long time!" Lyssa amended, pulling Andrea towards the Ravenclaw table. "Where were you? The other Quidditch players breezed through here over half an hour ago. They looked totally drained, by the way. I hope you're not pushing them too hard."</p><p>Andrea shrugged. "It's Quidditch. If we're not tired by the end of practice, we're not doing it right." </p><p>Lyssa pulled a face. "I don't understand why anyone would willing engage in that kind of physical activity every day." </p><p>"Because it's fun and rewarding?" Andrea offered, scanning the breakfast spread for a cherry pastry. </p><p>Lyssa shook her head in disagreement. "You're all masochists. The whole lot of you." </p><p>Andrea's eyes landed on a pair of cherry pastries, and she eagerly pulled both onto her plate. Flying always worked up her appetite. </p><p>"Oh!" Lyssa blurted. "Guess who else I saw this morning?" </p><p>Andrea's mouth was already occupied with a bite of pastry, so she just raised her eyebrows. </p><p>"Harry Potter!" </p><p>Andrea rolled her eyes, swallowing her bite. "That's not surprising, Lyssa. He eats breakfast just like the rest of us." </p><p>"And, he glanced over at the Ravenclaw table. I bet he was looking for you!" she added excitedly. </p><p>"You do realize that there are many reasons for him to look over at the Ravenclaw table other than me, right? Cho Chang, for example?" Andrea countered.</p><p>"You're just in denial," Lyssa stated. "It's Jeremy Chambers all over again." </p><p>"Jeremy Chambers was never into me," pointed out Andrea, reaching for a carafe of tea. </p><p>"That's what you think." </p><p>"He was three years older than me!" Andrea objected, pouring a generous amount of tea into her cup.</p><p>"Yes, well, his tastes ran young," Lyssa dead-panned.  </p><p>Andrea cringed, taking a sip of the tea. "Sometimes, your imagination takes you places I really don't want to hear about." </p><p>"Okay, fine. Maybe Jeremy Chambers isn't the right comparison," Lyssa admitted. "Doesn't change the fact that Harry Potter is indisputably in love with you." </p><p>Andrea gave her best friend an unconvinced look. "And you're basing this on him being nice to me one time?" </p><p>"He went out of his way to be thoughtful. That's love behavior," she insisted.</p><p>"What happened to you thinking he was secretly the Heir of Slytherin?" </p><p>"I've actually been thinking about that," Lyssa said, tapping her chin. "And, I think it would be fine for you to date the Heir of Slytherin. He could get us into the Chamber of Secrets and we could throw wild parties." </p><p>"Ah, yes. Because the two of us are known for throwing ragers," Andrea said dryly. </p><p>"Not yet, we're not!" Lyssa declared. "But, with your new boyfriend's connections? We'll be unstoppable." </p><p>Andrea just rolled her eyes. Sometimes it was better not to give Lyssa a response. </p><p>"We better get to class," she said, pulling her books to her chest. "Before you decide to set me up with Filch to get access to his cupboard of confiscated contraband." </p><p>"Now there's an idea!"</p><p>+++</p><p>Andrea spent the entirety of the DA meeting later that day avoiding Lyssa's obvious stares between her and Harry. Thankfully, Harry wasn't the most observant boy and he didn't seem to notice Lyssa's less-than-subtle behavior.</p><p>The two of them stood at the front of the group, delivering last remarks before releasing their fellow students for dinner. </p><p>Lyssa walked up to her after the lesson ended, pushing her towards Harry and whispering, "Go get 'em, tiger," before disappearing out the door with the rest of the class. </p><p>Harry was pushing practice dummies into the corner, brushing off a few bits of scorched fabric from a jinx gone wrong. </p><p>"Harry," she started carefully, already hating the conversation. </p><p>Harry glanced up from the dummy he was tidying. "Yeah?"</p><p>Might as well just rip off the bandage. </p><p>"Do you like me as more than a friend?" </p><p>His green eyes widened in surprise. "No!" he said immediately. </p><p>"I mean, I think you're great, of course. Who wouldn't think you're great? But, um, no, I'm not interested in you like that," he rambled, his cheeks turning red.</p><p>Andrea visibly relaxed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Thank Merlin. </p><p>"Why did you send the food last night then?" she asked, curious.</p><p>He rubbed his neck, looking down at the stone floor. </p><p>"Sometimes I forget to eat and Hermione has to remind me," he explained. "I know you have Lyssa and Marcel, but I just wanted to make sure that you had someone to remind you too."</p><p>Andrea blinked. It was so sweet, so unexpected. She wasn't sure what to say. </p><p>"Thank you," she managed to get out. </p><p>"Anytime."</p><p>Looking at Harry's sheepish smile, Andrea suddenly understood why so many people wanted to protect him. </p><p>"Are you going to the Great Hall today?" Harry asked, changing the topic. </p><p>"Yes, I am."</p><p>"Brilliant," Harry said. "I'll walk you. </p><p>"Er, in a friend way," he added quickly. </p><p>Andrea smiled at him reassuringly. </p><p>"That'd be lovely, Harry."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanted to pop in and mention that I do not condone abuse in any way. Andrea's thoughts about her father's abuse being an effective way to teach her a lesson is how she's processing and handling her trauma, but I want to make it clear that abuse is never excusable or okay.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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